Radioactive
by moholli
Summary: Disheartened by the aftermath of Simon Marshall, both Julia and Peter find themselves in a desperate attempt to stay alive. They have indeed been caught in a web and it is up to them to unravel it, save New York, and even the world. Will the heroes step up and become who they're meant to be? Or will New York's syndicates get the best of them? Sequel to Caught In A Web.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Over a year ago, I had no intention of publishing _Caught In A Web._ I never even thought of writing a sequel. But you folks have spoken, and you have made _Caught In A Web_ what it is today. This is for you. I'm happy to present to you the very first chapter of _Caught In A Web_ 's sequel: _Radioactive_.

* * *

{ Peter }

Peter tears into a sprint. He rips his arm from the man's grasp and races down the hallway to Julia's room. Even over his thudding heartbeat, he can hear the man's cackle echoing down the hall, chasing after him —

And Peter's just running.

Running until he gets to her and makes sure she's safe, and she's —

She's —

She's gone.

"No," Peter breathes, already backing out of her empty room. "No." He takes off down another corridor and checking every waiting room, patient room, operating room, and she's —

She's not here. She's not there. She's not anywhere.

She's —

She's gone.

Peter enters another hall, his insides churning and twisting into knots. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no," he whispers, desperately searching every possible place she could be.

But she's gone.

He took her and she's gone —

Gone gone gone —

A nurse rolls a hospital bed into the elevator and —

It's her.

"Julia…"

Peter knows it is. He _feels_ it.

Peter hurries after that nurse but the silver doors glide shut before he gets there. He groans in frustration, slamming his fist against the door as he pushes himself toward the staircase. He rushes open the door, slapping on a web-shooter, and jumps over the railing. A web fires from his wrist and he swings his way down each flight of stairs to the parking garage.

He kicks through the door, swinging into the concrete room, and —

And he fumbles to a halt. The nurse loads the hospital bed into the back of a van and Julia's just laying there, unconscious, letting these men take her —

Peter screams for them to stop, but they don't. He fires webs at them but they ricochet off, a shield of energy bursting and fading at the impact just like at the warehouse.

Peter yells for Julia as the van doors slam shut. He begs, pleads for her captors to stop. His voice tears at his throat but he keeps screaming, needing some sort of release from this pain.

The details of the garage have become difficult to see. The grey walls blur together and sounds are muffled like his head is submerged in water but the squeal of tires speeding out of the garage echoes through him and she's gone and there aren't even license plates to memorize, there's nothing to prove she was even here, she's gone, she's gone, it's over, they have her, she's gone —

Peter falls to his knees as a pit of despair opens inside him —

Widening and consuming him—

Devouring him whole —

Peter opens his eyes.

It's still there. The whole thing. Right at the front of his memory like it was yesterday.

He wishes he could forget it. Just forget her, forget all of it.

(is that bad?)

If he forgot, then he wouldn't have this hole in his chest. This hole she left. But that's just the thing: She didn't leave. She was taken.

Of course, it's bad to want to forget. (shut up, that was dumb — ) Remembering gives purpose. Remembering makes people who they are. No matter how much it hurts, it's worth the pain.

There's a soft knock at Peter's bedroom door and it creaks open, letting in a small stream of light. "Peter?" May softly asks.

He lays still.

"You okay?"

He sighs and slowly sits up right, rubbing his tired eyes that he wishes would close forever.

"Rough day?" May asks, moving and sitting on the edge of his bed.

He nods mechanically. "Something like that," he mumbles.

"You just have to get through it. That's all any of us have to do. Just stay alive and get through it."

Peter looks at his aunt in the faint light. He doesn't understand how someone can go through so much, have the world take everything from them, and still have so much to give.

May kisses his head. "Get some sleep." She walks out of his room, closing the door behind her and cloaking the room in darkness once more. Peter lays down and stares up at the top bunk.

There's nothing he can do. Not while he's got her. Not while he could still hurt her.

Just stay alive and get through it.

Peter thinks of her out there.

He whispers it, whispers it to her, wherever she is. "Stay alive and get through it."

Stay alive.

Stay alive.

* * *

{ Julia }

"Peter..."

Julia bursts upright, gasping for air.

Peter.

Where is Peter?

Julia blinks through the haze of white.

(where am I?)

She lifts her head to the vacant room. This isn't the same hospital room she was in before —

Before she was taken. Before Stephen was tazed and he could magic them to safety or magic the bad guy away —

Before —

Julia touches her neck. He gave her something. That man injected her with something that rendered her virtually dead. That's why she can't breathe. Her nose hurts. It's practically raw to the touch from the oxygen tubes feeding into her nostrils. She pulls it out and takes a breath on her own.

Who was that guy?

What did he want?

Why did he take her?

What happened to Stephen?

Julia sits up and instantly regrets the movement as she remembers the burn along her side. She winces, waiting for a wave of pain to hit but it never comes. Julia lifts her pristine, white shirt (she doesn't remember changing out of the hospital gown) to see the area her skin was burned only to find it pink and fleshy and healthy as ever.

How long has she been here?

What is this place?

Julia rolls her shirt down and surveys the room, but this room isn't even a room. There's nothing on the walls, the one window is barred (probably with Hulk-proof glass), and there's not even a door. It's just her in these white clothes in this white bed hooked up to a white multi-parameter monitor that's now beeping at her annoyingly —

Julia rips the cords from her chest and throws the wires to the floor.

There has to be a way out of here, there is, and she's going to find it. She stands from the bed, placing her feet on the cold tile, and shuffles forward. She's unsteady for a moment but finds her balance.

(how long have I been laying in that damn bed?)

She moves along the walls, her fingertips searching for some sort of crack or seal signaling a door. There has to be one if she is inside a seemingly inescapable room.

Julia's escaped an inescapable room before. It was during Halloween last year with Ned and Peter. They set the record for the fastest escape of the season.

(Peter — )

(where are you?)

A series of chirps echo outside the room like buttons on a keypad and Julia's heart nearly jumps out of her chest. She hurries for the bed and lays back down, closing her eyes, just as the door opens with a mechanical hiss.

Footsteps cross the room to her and Julia feigns sleep as much as she can, despite her racing heart.

The figure sighs loudly. "I know you're awake."

Julia's brow furrows. She knows that voice.

"That's why I'm here," he continues.

She hates that voice.

"You've taken the wires off."

Julia opens her eyes and glares at the man standing over her. Simon Marshall's mouth curls into a smile, his scar twisting his face into something truly awful. Julia thought she'd never see his face again yet here they are.

"So much for Queens' golden girl. You really are a pain in the ass, aren't you?" He says. Julia can't help the grin rolling over her lips. Simon looks her over and scoffs, disgust etched into his already marred features. "I should have killed you when I had the chance," he seethes.

Julia lifts her head toward him, ready to make him feel what she felt, what she felt in that warehouse: the pit in her stomach, the fear in her chest, the tears burning her eyes, the screams tearing at her throat —

"Here's your chance," she says.

Simon clenches his jaw, his arrogant smile turning angry. He lunges for her neck —

And Julia rolls off the bed, kicking it toward him as she lands on the floor. Simon flings himself over the mattress and she scrambles to her feet. He reaches for something along his hip and —

Julia shoves the vitals monitor in his direction and ducks to the floor —

And a bang explodes —

And a gust of wind rushes past her head —

(he tried to shoot her — )

(he almost shot her — )

(he almost —)

The gun flies from Simon's hand as he's smacked to the floor by the machine, glass shattering across the tile, and Julia eyes the free weapon. She pushes herself to her feet, running toward the gun —

And she's almost there —

She almost has it —

She can end this —

All of this —

She can —

Simon's thick arms slide around her and jerk her down —

And she slams onto the tiled floor, groaning at his weight on top of her. Simon clutches her down but she screams, kicks, yells, claws at him, working her way out of his hold —

But he clenches his thighs and her arms compress to her sides and she can't move, she can't break free, she can't do anything, she can't —

Simon throws his fist into her face —

Julia chokes at the impact, her head whipping back —

He grabs her by her hair, forcing her head up and punches her. Again and again, her head rocking this way and that as the air is stripped from her lungs —

Simon brings his hands to her throat —

And Julia gasps for what little breath she can —

And he squeezes. He squeezes and squeezes until veins bulge along his neck and his hair falls into his face that contorts with exertion. Julia squirms under him, trying in vain to break his grasp, and he only grips her tighter, harder, pressing, crushing her neck —

And the room dims —

And her eyes flutter shut —

And her lungs burn —

And she wants to welcome the darkness —

But she fights it. As if by sheer determination alone, she can stay awake. She will not die, she —

She feels something.

Cold brushes against her fingertips —

Julia reaches for the gun, (grabbing hold of something thin and sharp instead) and jerks her arm upward with everything she has left. Her arm breaks free and Simon cries out, falling backwards —

Julia rolls onto her side, coughing and gasping for air as quick as she can inhale it. She looks at her hand, dripping in red, and realizes she holds a shard of glass from the monitor she threw. She looks to Simon clutching his face as blood seeps between his fingers.

She sliced his other cheek.

Good.

She staggers to her feet, moving toward him, and drags him to his. She slams him against the wall, barring her arm across his chest —

And she stops.

She not only cut his face —

She cut his eye. Blood pours from the socket and Julia sees tears streaking through the bright red and it's so gross, she can hardly look at him but —

He almost killed her.

He almost killed _him_.

(Peter — )

(where are you?)

Julia presses the shard of glass to his throat. "Where is he?" She demands.

Simon laughs through his sobs of pain.

Julia jostles him, screaming, "Where is he?!"

The door hisses open again and Julia turns, throwing an arm around Simon, holding him against her while keeping the shiv to his throat. And there's that man. The tall, pale one, the one from the warehouse, the one who punched her so hard she threw up. He steps toward her and she steps back. "Don't," she warns, pressing the blade along Simon's neck. Her eyes dart to the doorway.

The other one — an older man — stands in the entrance resting his hands over a black cane. His thin fingers grab hold of the silver skull atop the cane and sift through the wreckage scattered through the room. "Simon, Simon, Simon," he chides, disapprovingly. "What have you done this time?"

"She attacked me, sir." Simon leans over, spitting blood from his mouth, and Julia rolls her eyes as she forces him back against her. She watches the older man carefully even though he looks as if he were making his grocery list in his head.

"Kill him, if you like," he speaks out. "Honestly, you would be doing me a favor."

Julia looks at him, puzzled. But not for long. Not knowing when she'll have the chance again, she turns Simon around.

"Where is he?" She repeats.

"You'll never see him again."

"Last chance."

"If you kill me, you'll never see him again."

Julia presses the glass into his skin and brings herself closer to his bloodied face. "What the hell does that mean?" She growls, ignoring the smell of blood wafting into her nose.

Simon chuckles, his teeth coated in red. "It means you've lost your leverage," he whispers, his voice breezy and light.

Julia's chest heaves with furious breaths. He's got her. He's got her right where he wants her. She should have known she can't get what she wants. She never does.

She just wants to know if Peter's safe.

If he's even alive…

Julia throws the shard of glass to the floor and turns around slowly, showing her hands in surrender. Simon grunts with satisfaction, or pain, as he steps around her, kicks the glass away, and grabs his gun from the floor. He aims at her head but Julia doesn't care. Her eyes are fixed on the doorway where two more men in lab coats hurry into the room. They move toward her and Julia reels back, her hands balling into fists —

"Easy, Julia," the old man exhorts. She looks at him. "They are here to help. We all are."

"I don't need anything from you," she snaps.

"We are not your enemy, Julia."

"Well, we're definitely not going to hold hands and sing Kumbaya around the campfire! Not after what _he_ did to me," she adds, her cold glare lingering on Simon. "To all those people! To — "

Julia stops herself.

She can't even say his name aloud. She can't betray him like that again. She won't let them use her against him.

But Simon seems to know exactly what she was going to say without her having to even speak his name. A smirk snarls at the corner of his mouth, his one eye swollen shut, and Julia shifts her gaze to the floor. She can't bear to look at him. What she did to him pales in comparison what he's done to her. He's the one who's hurt yet she is in more pain.

It's not fair.

"Mr. Lincoln," the old man says. "Would you be so kind as to remove Doctor Marshall?"

Julia lifts her head.

Simon stares at him. "Are you kidding?"

"Now, Mr. Lincoln," the man continues.

Simon scoffs as the tall one, Lincoln — Lonnie, if Julia remembers right — grabs Simon by his upper arm and escorts him out of the room.

The old man inhales deeply. "There," he remarks, a smile stretching his leathered face. "That is better. More room to breathe now that his ego is not taking up the whole room."

Julia looks him over. She has to really listen through his thick Italian accent. And there's something else. There's a calmness in his voice that relaxes her tense muscles, but maybe that's just from Simon being out of the room.

"I understand your hesitancy, Julia," he says. "I expect it. This must all be very overwhelming. But trust is a two way street. You seek answers, I am sure, and I am happy to give them to you so long as you allow Doctor Harrow and Doctor Connors to ensure you are healthy." He gestures to the two men who retreated in fear upon realizing her instability.

Julia relaxes her shoulders even more, and nods.

The man flicks his head toward her and one doctor brings her to the bed as the other readies it for her. She sits on the mattress as the men listen to her heartbeat, measure her pulse, and check her pupils for dilation. Julia glances at the old man just watching her.

"I was with a boy," she tells him. "Where is he?"

The man gives her a smile. "Safe."

Julia heaves a sigh of relief. That's all she wanted to hear.

(even if it's a lie — )

"As is his identity," he adds. "Our community knows of him as Spider-man but the public remains unaware."

Julia nods. She can work with that. All these men are probably criminals like Simon and Lonnie and Mr. Thompson.

"But you must know," the man adds, worriedly, "he tried to stop us from helping you."

Julia's brow furrows. "Helping me?"

"That Stark technology in your belly," he says, pointing to her shirt with his cane. "Who do you think got it out and healed you to near perfection?"

"Doctor Strange was gonna do that," she defends.

"He could not have healed you."

"You don't know what he's capable of."

"You do not know what I am capable of."

Julia swallows thickly. Something inside of her shrinks but at least it's not her courage.

"So you drug me?" She accuses. "Put me on lock down? It's no wonder Peter tried to stop you."

"He tried to stop us from saving you. He did not want to see you healed otherwise you would not need him. You have always been a fighter, a warrior. This proves that." He points to the wreckage they sit in. Julia follows his gaze to the knocked over machines, shattered glass, and blood spattered floor.

She looks away.

"You would be better than him," he says. "And that boy could not have that."

Julia immediately shakes her head. "No. No, Peter's not like that. He wouldn't do that."

The man sighs deeply and takes a seat next to her on the bed. "The truth is ugly to hear but beautiful as it frees the soul."

Julia sits with him in silence as the doctors continue their inspection.

It can't be true. She knows Peter, she was with him. She was with him in the hallway and then —

And then it all happened so fast —

And —

And he was gone —

And she was here.

There's a blank in her memory where she doesn't know what happened. She doesn't know the truth. But the man sitting beside her does.

"Why go through all the trouble for me?" She says, angrily wiping her wet eyes.

"Because we look after our own, _giovanotta_. You helped build Simon's Juvenator — "

"No," she interrupts. "No, that was an accident — "

"And we did not want that wound Simon created to hinder your abilities," he says, speaking over her. She wishes she could do the same but a sentence like that is hard to ignore.

"What abilities?" She asks.

He pats her knee. "Everything in it's time." He stands from the bed, chuckling to himself as he slowly stands. "Time," he quietly repeats. "What an odd concept. What do you know of time, Julia?"

She stares at him.

"Come now. What are they teaching you at school? Or have you already surpassed your peers to NYU?"

Julia opens her mouth, ready to call him out for insulting her friends at Midtown Tech, but she stops herself before saying something she'll regret. This man she's never met before just happens to know everything about her. He ordered his people to save her, his people are checking her now. He obviously has more power than he knows what to do with and she does not want to piss him off.

"Time isn't relative," she answers, not meeting his gaze. "Motion is. The passing of time is interconnected to the concept of space, like how a bowling ball effects a trampoline."

He sighs. "That is a standard, textbook explanation of Einstein's Theory of Relativity, _giovanotta_. What do you know about time?"

Julia looks at him, at this man who knows what happened to Peter, the last person she really remembers, the person she didn't even get to tell goodbye —

She didn't get to tell a lot of people goodbye. And the one person she did tell is gone forever.

Julia stares at her hands stained with blood.

"There's never enough of it," she says, and her voice is small, more fragile than she would like. But the old man doesn't mind.

"There's never enough," he repeats. His voice is small too. "My daughter, Lucrezia… She was the most beautiful dancer in all of _Italia_. She truly had a gift for the stage." A smile tugs at the corner of Julia's lips as she watches the man's reminiscent smile. She can feel his love for her, but her smile fades as his smile falls, and Julia knows how this story ends.

"Her life was taken by the harsh betrayal of her own body," he says sadly. "Stage four melanoma."

Julia nods knowingly. "My mother suffered cerebral death, and now she's…"

Julia clears the lump rising in her throat. She can't bring herself to say it. She thought if she said it, she could lessen his pain. But the pain never goes away. She simply forgets it from time to time.

"I am so sorry for your loss," the man says. "A daughter needs her mother."

"She needs her father too," Julia says, tears welling in her eyes, blurring her vision together. An ache shoots through her as a hole opens in Julia's chest, a hole that was closed when she made her peace her mother was gone and now it's opening again at the loss of her father. He's not dead —

(maybe — )

(she hopes — )

(but she doesn't know, not really — )

That hole is widening within her, cracking open and draining her of all hope.

Large drops fall from her eyes, rolling off her cheeks and onto her lap.

She just wants to go home.

"Oh, there, there," the man says, sitting with her again on the bed and placing a weathered hand on hers. "I know you want to see him, and soon, I promise. I simply have a favor to ask."

Julia sniffles back her tears and looks up at him. "What is it?"

"Something was taken from me," he says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Just like my darling Lucrezia, just like your mother, and you're going to find it."

Julia inhales a shaky breath. "The Juvenator."

He nods, expectant, but she quickly shakes her head.

"I don't remember what happened to it. I — I'm sorry. I don't."

He laughs and squeezes her hand tighter. "You are not hearing me, Julia. You are going to find it. You do want to see your mother again, no? Not just alive but living?"

Something tugs in Julia's heart. She would give anything to see her mother again like she once was.

"Think of that boy," he adds, and Julia's heart skips a beat. "He lost his parents, his uncle. You can bring them back. Think how happy he would be if he lived a normal life with his family again. Find the Juvenator. Do this for him. All you have to do is let us heal you."

Julia looks at the man, thinking of her no longer burned stomach. "You said you had."

He waves his hand and one of the doctors produces a silver case for him. He unlocks it with him thumbprint, the case opening with a hiss, and Julia peers at the vials laying in swirling mist. "We will make you stronger, unstoppable, unbreakable. We will make you…"

Julia's heart pounds in her chest.

"Radioactive."


	2. Chapter 2

{ Peter }

Peter scratches an itch under his web-shooter tucked beneath the layers of his coat. He should be wearing gloves. He's going to catch frostbite sitting out here.

But he has to be ready. Something's going to happen. Simon Marshall's going to make a move and that old guy from the hospital is going to be connected somehow and Julia —

Peter takes a breath.

He'll find her. He just has to be ready.

He shoves his hands back into his pockets, tugging his jacket tighter around him as he watches from the rooftop ledge. Queens is quiet today. A grey haze looms over the city, dropping a silent blanket of white and suffocating the streets below. Peter wouldn't even know miles of towering buildings line the avenues if he hadn't seen them before the winter months hit.

How is it already December?

How has he not found her?

It's been three weeks and —

And nothing.

(Julia — )

(where are you?)

At least the city outside matches his insides.

Peter hears the roar of Mr. Stark's thrusters drawing near, and he doesn't bother turning around nor does he move at all to the mechanical whirring of Mr. Stark's suit as he lands on the rooftop. He hears the suit click open and Mr. Stark steps out onto the snow covered ground with a soft crunch.

Peter watches the city, and waits.

"You know," Mr. Stark calls out, "you shouldn't sit so close to the edge. Someone might do this!" He lunges to push him over, and Peter doesn't move. He doesn't even flinch.

Mr. Stark eyes him warily and sits on the snow-covered ledge next to him. "Man, that's cold," he comments, shifting uncomfortably. "So how long you been brooding out here, huh? Couple hours? Your ears are pink."

Peter watches, and waits.

"You gotta talk to me, kid."

"I don't have to do anything," he snips.

Mr. Stark nods. "Except for stop every bank robber, burglar, rapist, gunman in a twenty block radius."

Peter glances at him.

(he knows about all that?)

"And that's fine," Mr. Stark adds. "You can do that. It's your job. Crime's gone down in the city by thirty-two percent, so that's _good_ …"

(then why doesn't he feel good?)

"But you gotta take care of yourself, kid."

Peter sighs. He knew there was a catch to his idol showing up.

"You gotta eat," he continues. "You gotta go to class."

"I go to school."

"Ah, ah!" Mr. Stark wags a finger at him. "I said class. Showing up to school then ditching to fight bad guys doesn't count."

Peter hangs his head. There's only one way the Avenger knows about what he's been doing, or how he's been acting lately. "Did May put you up to this?" He asks.

"She's worried about you. And she's not the only one."

Peter looks up at Mr. Stark who shrugs a little, and guilt seeps into Peter's stomach for making even the seasoned Avenger worry about him.

"You gotta let this go," Mr. Stark urges, and there's a softness in his voice that Peter doesn't often hear. "Friday is still searching. You did what you could."

"Then why does it feel like it wasn't enough?" Peter fires back. He still hasn't looked Mr. Stark in the eye, and he doesn't plan to.

(how can he say he's supposed to let this go?)

(he can't let her go, he can't let that guy get away with this, he can't — )

He watches, and waits.

"You know, when I was a kid," Mr. Stark says, pausing to clear his throat, "I participated in the Greendale Elementary School Science Fair."

Peter finally glances over at him.

"Oh, yeah. Big time. I had built this electromagnetic nano-transmitter, it was cutting edge tech, it would revolutionize the industry — No other nine year old had done this, right? So, naturally, I win first place. I go home that night, proud as proud can be, and my dad… he didn't even look twice at me. He saw the blue ribbon in my hand, nodded, and walked out. I did what I could and it wasn't enough." Mr. Stark's head hangs just a little lower, his shoulders just a little smaller, and Peter can hardly believe his hero is his own worst enemy.

"For him," Peter says. The Avenger looks over at him. "It wasn't enough for him, but you felt you did enough. But I don't. I could have done more, there's always something more I can do, and I didn't."

"Like what?" Mr. Stark says.

Peter shakes his head with a scoff.

"Tell me: What else could you have done to get her back?"

"I don't know!" He blurts out. "But he's obviously threatened by me," he mumbles, his voice trailing off. Regret washes over him and he wishes he hadn't said anything, especially when he feels Mr. Stark's gaze boring into him.

"Kid," he says slowly, "what are you talking about?"

Peter stands from the ledge, turning his back on the street, and waits for Mr. Stark to follow suit. He pulls his coat tighter against him as Mr. Stark gets to his feet and joins him. Looking toward the row of buildings across from them, he faces Peter, worry written in his eyes that can be seen even behind his colored glasses.

"Second building, third window from the left," Peter quietly explains. "A man will step into view, pause, and walk away. Every half hour, every hour, every day since the hospital without fail."

Mr. Stark's eyes flit from Peter to the apartment building across the street behind him, and Peter knows he's right. He can see Friday working some kind of thermal heat signature imaging in his glasses. "What is he looking for?"

"Me," Peter answers. "Making sure I'm not breaking routine."

"And pouting out in the cold is penciled into your routine?"

"It's their way of keeping me here and not out there looking for her," he whispers. "And I can't do anything about it or they will kill May and Mr. Carpenter and whoever else they want."

"Then we need to get you out of here. You and May can come to the compound, it doesn't have to be alter ego related, okay? Complete witness protection."

"I can't," Peter pleads, and he hates the way he sounds so helpless but he continues anyway. "Any change in activity, they report it, and pull the trigger. Are you willing to risk that? Risk May? Julia's dad? Don't you get it? There is something bigger than all of us going on here and you want me to go to _school?_ "

"I want you to be safe," Mr. Stark confesses.

Peter shakes his head, backing away from him and taking his seat at the edge of the roof.

"Kid — "

"I don't think we'll ever be safe, Mr. Stark," Peter mumbles. He burrows his hands in his pockets, and returns to watching the streets below.

"Not with that attitude," the Avenger comments.

" _Boss,"_ Friday announces from his suit. " _Incoming call from Ms. Potts."_

Mr. Stark sighs. "Kid, if you need help, even if you don't want it, my door is open." He crunches his way through the snow back over to his suit, and Peter hates them leaving things like this. But he doesn't know what else to do.

"You'll let me know if Friday finds anything?" Peter asks over his shoulder. It's quiet, and the only reason he even knows Mr. Stark is still there is the whirring of his suit.

"And if she does?" He replies.

Peter shrugs. "You know where I'll be." He shifts on the ledge, sniffling away his drippy cold nose, and watches and waits.

* * *

{ Julia }

There's movement in the darkness.

Shapes and figures, moving from one place to another —

"Vitals steady and holding."

There's a noise —

Beyond that man's voice —

There are others —

Voices —

Whispers —

Moving in shadows —

 _If this doesn't work, I swear —_

 _She's strong, this one. Not like the others._

Julia's eyes crack open.

"Holy shit."

"It worked."

"Of course it worked. It's my design."

"Julia… Julia, can you hear me?"

A face is above her and she recognizes it to be one of the doctors she saw before. She reaches to block the light beaming into her eyes but her arm stays at her side. Her whole body trudges with heaviness and she doesn't move and she can't feel anything, she can't even lift her head, it feels like it's made of concrete, and there's an ache in her neck and a weird taste in her mouth and her skin feels too tight like she's too big for her body and —

Her eyes fall shut.

 _Shit —_

"Jonas, she's crashing."

"She needs to move."

"Get her up. Now."

There's another scurry of movement mixed with beeping monitors and —

A stabbing pain in her leg —

Julia cries out, bursting upright —

"Jesus!"

She grabs at her leg, rolling onto her side, and falls to the floor. It takes her eyes a moment to find the syringe in her hand half-filled with adrenaline.

 _What were you gonna do, Jonas?_

 _It works —_

 _Jump start her or kill her?_

 _Holy shit, she's gonna kill us all —_

Julia presses her forehead to the cool floor —

(who is talking?)

 _What is she doing?_

 _Dear God, what have we done?_

(shut up — )

Julia haphazardly pushes herself to her feet and her arms are weaker, more sore than she remembers. She sways as she stands but the momentum of her too large body drags her down and she falls where it leads and stumbles into the wall.

 _Are these side effects to be expected?_

(what is happening — )

 _Do we help her?_

(shut up — )

Julia leans against the wall, keeping her upright, and it cracks under her and she sinks into the broken drywall.

(what the — )

 _Oh, my God…_

She pulls herself away from it and gapes at the hole in the wall —

 _It works —_

 _She's definitely got strength —_

(did she do that — )

 _She doesn't even know her own strength —_

(how did she do that — )

 _She'll figure it out —_

(shut — )

 _She'll learn —_

(up — )

 _This will change the world —_

 _I'll get everything I wanted —_

 _This poor girl —_

(shut up — )

(shut up — )

Julia brings her hands to her ears but the voices continue to talk and they talk about her and they talk and talk and talk and —

There are more.

There are so many more.

There's a white noise, a constant, incessant noise made up of too much noise, too many voices, and she hears someone outside —

No. She sees them. As if by hearing them alone, she _sees_ Simon Marshall screaming at a guard to let him enter —

She sees the man arguing back —

But it's more than that —

Deeper than that —

She hears the doctors' concerns, she hears other guards throughout this place, whatever this place is, she hears a fist fight break out downstairs and she can visualize the opponent's next move and she hears —

She hears everything.

An overwhelming clashing of voices rushing through her head, screaming, yelling, all talking and she _hears_ them, each of them, all of them —

Talk talk talk —

(stop — )

(make it stop — )

(make it stop — )

(someone — )

(please — )

A cool touch slides down her neck, and all voices fade out of existence.

Julia gasps at the silence as if inhaling a breath of fresh air. Relief flows through her as she looks up to find the old man standing above her. He smiles kindly and she looks down at herself. She didn't realize she had sunk to the floor with her knees to her chest.

"You should have turned on the inhibitor prior to her awakening, Doctor Harrow," he comments. Julia looks past him to the doctor who stands with his head in a solemn bow.

"Of course, sir. My mistake. We'll prep the lab." The doctor, Harrow, waves for the others to follow and the three men leave the recovery room, their white lab coats swishing behind them as they exit.

Julia looks back to the older man.

He made it stop. All of them.

"Thank you," she whispers. He smiles and reaches to help her up. She takes his offer and is much more steady on her feet this time. Julia touches her neck and feels a smooth strip of metal imbedded in her skin. She shudders at the coldness of it. But it made the voices stop, and she wishes to thank him again and realization dawns on her that she stands beside a stranger. "Who are you?"

He chuckles. "I suppose we have not been formally introduced, have we, Julia? My name is Silvio. Silvio Manfredi." He flashes her a warm smile and she tries to give him one in return but the action is hollow.

Fear seeps into her stomach. She just broke a wall by leaning on it, she scared those men half to death —

What werethose voices?

"What did you do to me?" She whispers, her eyes welling with tears.

"We made you stronger — "

"I don't _feel_ stronger," she spits through gritted teeth.

He places a hand on her shoulder she immediately wants to swat away but she stays herself. "You will," he says.

Mr. Manfredi turns to the door and saunters out of the room. Julia joins him, not knowing what else to do, and is greeted by Lonnie's chest blocking another hall, showing her to follow Mr. Manfredi.

She stares up at the ridiculously tall man and he dips his head in acklowedgemnet at her. She looks him over, respecting him ever so slightly more than the rest of his cohorts (which is nothing), but he did cause her the least amount of pain at the warehouse. He didn't advance when she held Simon hostage yesterday (at least, she thinks it was yesterday) and now he's helping her find her way through this place.

Julia perks up at the freedom she feels while traveling down a series of dimly lit halls with Mr. Manfredi and Lonnie trailing behind them. She's thankful for the darkness. The recovery room was way too bright, even if they were just normal lights.

She starts to feel more like herself as she walks, gain some of her movement back. When she woke, maybe it's not that she couldn't feel anything at all, maybe she was just feeling too much.

She wonders if Peter still struggles with copious amounts of stimulation or if it's something that wears off.

(Peter — )

(where are you?)

Mr. Manfredi leads them down another corridor. A guard stands outside a door and holds it open for them to pass through. Julia glances at the rifle he holds close to his chest and ignores it as she enters the room. She steps out onto a metal platform overlooking a huge gymnasium, a playground of trampolines, swinging ropes, balance beams, and rock climbing walls all begging to be used.

Julia looks to her side and Mr. Manfredi is already at the bottom of the stairs. She quickly hurries down, something itching inside her to explore the maze of foam padded bars and rubber matted platforms.

"We just have a few tests to run," Mr. Manfredi says. "Doctor Connors, Doctor Harrow, if you will please…"

The men step forward and attach a series of small pads to Julia's skin. She cooperates as they place them on her wrists, biceps, over her heart and spine, all the while Doctor Connors types away on the tablet in his hand. She catches a glimpse of his screen and sees her vitals reading from the pads as he taps each of them on.

"Go ahead," Mr. Manfredi tells her. "Test just how strong you are."

Doctor Connors and Harrow retreat to a viewing room as Julia looks over at the gymnasium. She hears the metallic creak of the door overhead and looks up to the platform where Simon stands watching through one eye.

Julia tries not to smile. A missing eye is a start to what he deserves.

He tried to kill her.

He tried to kill Peter. But Peter —

Peter left her. Practically gave her to Simon. He hasn't come for her, and she's losing hope he's going to.

No one is going to save her.

Julia starts in a jog down the runway.

So she's going to save herself.

Julia pushes herself harder, faster. She runs toward a trampoline and bounces off it, flipping and landing on a padded wall. And she's higher than expected. She pauses for a moment, startled by her fixed position on the smooth surface. She looks at her feet and assures herself she is indeed holding herself there by nothing but herself.

"Awesome," she breathes.

Jula crawls up the wall, reaching the top, and balances on the thin edge with ease. She launches from her feet, jumping to a rope and swings to a set of horizontal bars. She tucks into a flip, releases her hold, and falls to a rung below without so much as a change in heartbeat. Julia quickly throws herself forward and bounding over a huge gap, she tucks herself into a ball — flipping to stretch herself further — and ducks into a roll as she touches the ground and springs to her feet. She runs freely and without care. She leaps over a hurdle, flipping into a roll, and springs over a lower set of bars, another rail, and somersaults onto her feet.

Julia throws herself between two walls and fixes herself there by her feet. It's no wonder Peter was always climbing around the rooftop. She's never had so much fun in all her life. She doesn't even have to think, she just knows _._ She senses things around her, feels them even if she's not touching them or seeing them.

She casts her glance around the gym and notices a panel suspended above with no way to get to it. Curious, she crawls her way as close as she can and jumps to a rope descending from the ceiling. Julia thrusts herself forwards and backwards, gaining speed, and ignores the fear building inside her is she falls from this height.

Julia takes a breath —

And throws herself to the ceiling —

And —

And she's not going to make it.

She's going to fall —

She's falling —

Falling falling falling —

Fear thuds through her bones —

She clenches her eyes shut —

She —

She grabs hold of something small and tight in her fist —

And she's not falling.

Julia opens her eyes and the floor has stopped rushing toward her. She looks up and, in her hand, a web sticks to the ceiling.

She laughs, relieved, but without any web-shooters and nothing hanging before —

She had to have made it herself.

She willed it into existence —

And she wants to do it again.

Julia climbs the strand of webbing and starts swinging herself back and forth, gaining enough momentum, and with every ounce of trust and confidence she has in herself —

She thrusts herself forward into nothing —

Leaving the webbing behind —

And a new web grows from her fingers

And sticks to the ceiling —

Julia grabs it, slings herself forward, and another web is conjured into her grasp. She smiles at the rush of pride flowing through her as she swings herself across the ceiling until she reaches the edge.

She hangs there for a moment out of breath, and it's not from exerting her abilities, it's the shock of her abilities. None of the doctors warned her of what she would be able to do but once Mr. Manfredi said she would be radioactive, she knew she would be similar to Spider-Man.

(Peter — )

(is it true?)

(do you think I'm better?)

(do you not want me?)

Julia notices the cluster of doctors behind the glass pane talking excitedly with each other, pointing to screens and looking back up to Julia hanging here, while Mr. Manfredi simply stands where she left him, watching her with a knowing smile.

The web in Julia's hand grows longer, like it knew to move before she did, and lowers her to the floor. Mr. Manfredi applauds her as she touches down and walks over to him.

" _Stupefacente_ ," he remarks. " _Semplicemente stupefacente, giovanotta._ "

Julia smiles a little, registering some of his common Italian phrases, and tucks her hair behind her ear. "Well, it's not my first time web-slinging," she tells him.

"Very true. That boy was good for something then."

Doctor Harrow and Doctor Connors hustle over to Julia and remove the pads they stuck to her. Mr. Manfredi turns, leaving her in their care, and she can't stop herself from calling out, "Mr. Manfredi?"

"Silvio, _giovanotta_ , Silvio," he tells her, a smile upon his face, and Julia relaxes a little when he turns back to her. "What is it?"

Silvio is the only one who ever tells her anything, these doctors don't speak to her, and she has to know —

"When I first woke up," she says, "when you saw me, I was hearing voices. Hundreds of them. None of them my own… You made it stop."

"Not voices," he corrects. "Thoughts."

Julia blinks a few times.

"To look inside oneself is to find the answer to all," Silvio explains. "When Doctor Marshall brought you to that storage facility, he applied the force he felt necessary to make you compliant. Compliance will always be rewarded, of course, but his actions caused unforseen yet useful effects when the procedure commenced."

Julia thinks back to the warehouse, to the jumper cables surging electricity through her, to the webs she created from nothing. "The electricity altered my DNA into using psionic energy…"

"Doctor Harrow created a variation of ISO-36 alongside Doctor Connors here. Made it stronger, smarter. Once it entered your bloodstream, it saw negatively charged ionic damage in your cells and turned it into a gift. As for the telepathy, this inhibitor implanted along your brain stem blocks or allows wavelengths to travel through to the midbrain."

Julia watches Silvio from the corner of her eye as he brings a finger to the inhibitor along her neck. His touch along the metal sends a shiver down her spine. "You want me to listen in on people's thoughts," she surmises.

"I want you to uncover what has been hidden," he corrects. "You were the missing piece to build the Juvenator and you are the missing piece to getting it back. Undergo the ultimate test of your newfound abilities and locate the Juventor… By any means necessary."

Julia looks at Silvio, and knows what she has to do. She knew what she was getting into when she let them inject her with that serum. She knew she would have to do things that terrify her, she was scared the first time she wore Peter's web-shooters. But after and ever since then, she's never been scared. Not that she doesn't feel fear but she acts in the face of it.

Silvio waves a hand for Simon to approach.

"How do you know I won't just run away?" She asks.

Silvio smiles. "Unlike that boy who left you, you do not seem the type to run from your problems, _giovanotta."_ He looks over his shoulder, and Julia peeks around him to see Simon rolling out a table with a black suit laid upon it. "Or, dare I say, Spider-Woman?"

Julia looks at the suit in awe and lays a gentle hand to the white spider emblem on the chest. "Arachne," she says, remembering the day Peter first called her Spider-Woman. She hated it, and wants nothing about her name to resemble his.

Julia takes the suit from table, something within her deciding to change things. She will learn to navigate her abilities, she will find the Juvenator, and she will bring back the people she's lost because maybe, just maybe, Peter won't leave her this time.

Julia looks between Simon and Silvio. "The name's Arachne," she repeats. "And I'm going to bring them home. For us."

For him.

* * *

{ Peter }

Peter emerges from his room and walks into the kitchen, following the low murmur of the morning news. He glances in the living room where May sits on the couch sipping her coffee. "Morning, May," he says, opening the fridge and peering inside.

May nearly spits out her drink. "Oh, my God, you're awake."

Peter shuts the fridge with a smile. "I know, I know. Shocking for me to be voluntarily ready for school and not dragged out of bed."

"And early at that," she replies, checking her watch. "How'd you sleep?"

"Uh, okay, I guess. It was almost too quiet to sleep," he chuckles, thinking back on last night. Nothing was happening in town so Spider-Man turned in for the night.

May reaches for her plate on the coffee table and brings a PopTart to her mouth. "Well, today's a new day."

"Uh-huh, sure — Are those the PopTarts you get to drizzle on your own frosting?" Peter asks, stopping May before she even takes a bite of the pastry.

She looks over at him, her eyes glinting behind her glasses. "Sure are," she says with a smirk. "There's a whole box with your name on it."

"You do love me," Peter whispers, whirling around and opening the cupboards until he finds the delicious pastries. He sets a few in the toaster. "What are your plans for today?" He asks.

May hums as she chews her food, returning her focus to the TV. "Might go down to the shelter over on 75th street."

"Oh, c'mon, not in Woodhaven."

"Why not?"

"Uh…" Peter falters for the right thing to say, not only knowing but seeing some of the shady things that happen in that neighborhood. "Nothing? I don't know, you know, j-just be careful, that's — that's all." He balances on the sides of his feet and looks down at his toes, rubbing the tips of his shoes together. He hears May sets down her plate and stand from the couch.

"Peter, I get it," she tells him, walking into the kitchen. "After Julia, I know how worried you are. But Tony told you he's looking for her, right?"

"Yeah…?"

"Then you know he'll find her." She places a hand on his shoulder and fixes his hair. It's getting long.

The TV changes to a different news anchor, talking about a new story developing, and Peter looks past May to the screen.

"I know these past few weeks haven't been easy for you, for any of us," she continues, "and we all want Julia back as much as you do, but she didn't just disappear. Even if she did, she'll have left a trace. Tony just has to find it. Something's bound to turn up…"

"Uh-huh," Peter mutters absently, his eyes glued to the news as he moves into the living room.

"What?" May turns to watch the TV.

" _Breaking news: A case of battery and assault was reported earlier this morning by Queens' very own Chief of Police, Harold Thompson."_

"That's Flash's dad," Peter says, recognizing the photo that appears on the screen.

"Oh, no," May breathes.

Peter doesn't quite share her sympathy, not when a dirty cop works for one of the worst people in the city. If anything, he feels bad for Flash.

" _Sources say a masked vigilante entered his home in Woodhaven late last night and after a loud conversation was seen fleeing the building. Chief Thompson reports nothing was stolen and is now recovering in the sanctity of his home."_

"I'm glad he's okay," May comments.

Peter glances at her. "Woodhaven. Told you."

"Alright, wise guy, get to school."

He laughs as she nudges him, moving to the kitchen with her coffee mug, but he stays fixed in the living room, continuing to watch the news as they release what few details they have on the case. A masked vigilante could be anyone, knowing New York. But Chief Thompson as the victim can't be a coincidence. Peter just doesn't understand how he didn't hear anything during the night. The news anchor did say, though, that it was reported earlier this morning, he must have been asleep and just missed it.

" _The investigation is ongoing and we will continue to release updates …"_

May blocks the TV. "C'mon, you're gonna be late," she says, corralling him toward the door.

"I'm going, I'm going." Peter grabs his PopTarts from the toaster and smothers them to where there's more frosting than pastry, slips on his backpack, and heads out the door. "Wuv oo, May!" He mumbles through a mouthful of deliciousness.

"Love you more!" She replies. The door closes behind him and Peter hurries downstairs to catch the train.

He makes it to school around his usual time, the hallways already bustling with students and their way-too-early excited shrieks. Peter dodges one of the aeronautical engineer club's remote planes ("Whoa, that's awesome! Nice, guys!") on the way to his locker and shoves his coat inside. He zips open his backpack and replaces the books inside with the ones from his locker he needs for the day.

He misses carrying Julia's books. She's fine to do it on her own but, to be honest, Peter only ever offered just so she would talk to him. She's always so busy and so popular, Peter just wants her to notice him…

Wanted. He wanted her to notice him. And now it's like no one at Midtown Tech even notices she's gone. Peter looks around the hallway. Julia's friends act like she's missing, huddled in a solemn group, Betty sometimes talks about her disappearance but only to update the school news. Peter's just glad he has Ned. He doesn't know what he would do if something happened to —

"Parker!"

Peter nearly drops his entire backpack filled with books. He hugs his school bag and slams his locker shut as he turns to face Flash. "Yup, mm-hmm. That's me. What's up?"

Flash looks him over, and Peter braces himself to be shoved or punched or some sort of physical outburst for merely being alive. "Anything on Julia?" He asks.

"Oh," Peter says, relaxing a little. Flash is the last person Peter would expect to care about her disappearance yet here he is. "Uh, no, but Mr. Stark is looking. He — he's doing everything he can."

"He better…"

Peter moves his backpack to his shoulder. "H-how's your dad?" Flash stares at him. "How — how are you? I saw on the news this morning what happened, I mean, a-are you guys okay?"

"Fine. Why do you care?"

"I — I just, I, uh, w-would it be okay if I stop by later? Maybe? Just to make sure he's, and you're, okay? You know, I — I think Julia'd really appreciate it."

Flash scoffs, raising his shoulders in a shrug. "Whatever," he mumbles. "Just don't be there when I get home. I can't stand the thought of being seen with you outside of school."

"Yeah, yeah, no, of course. Makes sense." Flash rolls his eyes and walks away from Peter. "Alright, good talk!" He calls after him.

"That was the worst conversation I've ever overheard, and I've overheard a lot."

Peter hangs his head for a moment, sighing deeply, and turns to MJ reading a few lockers down from him. "I'd like to see you do better up against Flash."

She claps her book shut. "Easy. Just show him the vine he made in seventh grade."

"Oh, yeah, that was bad."

"Total flop."

"And not a bop," he quotes, MJ saying it with him. They both laugh softly at their classmate's failed attempt to make himself more popular that somehow got buried under everything else. Things were simpler in seventh grade.

The bell chimes, signaling the start of passing period, and Peter looks over his shoulder at the other students packing up their belongings. "Well, I, uh, I better get to class…"

MJ doesn't say anything, just looks down and fiddles with the book in her hands. Peter turns to leave her be. "Hey," she says. He pauses. "I know Flash just asked but… any news on your girlfriend?"

"Do people really think she's my girlfriend?" Peter asks, his heart leaping.

Her brow furrows. "No. I just don't know how to label your relationship."

"Right," he agrees, dismissing the idea. That was stupid.

"I was just hoping to know if she's okay."

Peter smiles a little, folding his arms over his chest. "Does Michelle Jones actually care about someone other than herself?"

And Peter swears she smiles.

"Okay," she sighs.

"Mark it down for the history books, kids!"

"Okay!" She laughs. Peter does too, and drops his teasing. "Yes, I want to know if she's okay."

"Because…?"

MJ purses her lips and doesn't quite meet his eyes. Peter watches her expectantly. He knows what she's about to say, and in a rush, she admits, "I want to know if I'm done covering for her as acting robotics president."

"There it is."

MJ smacks him with his book. "You try juggling that and band and academic decathlon and deal with the crippling depression of our reality and if we are actually living in a simulation so, yeah, I want to know if she's okay!"

Peter rubs his shoulder, laughing. He doesn't think he's ever seen MJ show emotion before let alone know exactly how she's feeling. "No," he tells her. "No news yet. But Mr. Stark might be onto something so, there's that… We can only hope her reappearance leads to easing your burden."

She fights a laugh, but allows a smile to cross her face.

She has a nice smile.

"You'll be fine, MJ," Peter says.

She nods. "So will you."

A grin overcomes Peter. It's not often MJ is there for others but when she's there, she's there. And it's nice to know she's there for him, and that he can be there for her.

The warning bell rings and Peter turns to head to history with MJ but she opens her book and heads in the other direction. "Class is this way, genius!" He shouts.

"Not going, genius!"

"Why?!"

MJ flips him off, continuing on her way, and Peter laughs to himself as he continues on his.

The day goes by pretty quick despite Peter looking forward to getting out of here. In between lectures and note taking, he scribbles out his homework as fast as possible. Lunches, passing periods, and even free period, is spent with Ned completing homework so he doesn't have to do it later. He has a really good feeling about seeing Mr. Thompson later.

He tries not to get ahead of himself, though, hoping he'll have answers or at least tell him what happened at his house, something that could lead back to _her_.

It has to. It just has to. He doesn't know what he'll do if it doesn't.

There's a tug at Peter's heart every so often: an empty seat next to him in history, a sullen Flash in the cafeteria, a lifeless robotics clique in the lab.

He smiles a little, thinking of the effect Julia has on others, how she's touched everyone's life in some way, none more than his.

The final bell rings, and Peter is the first one to hurry out of the building and leave campus. He rushes through traffic and crosswalks, as if by will alone he can make it to Woodhaven faster than the train. Every so often, he shoots a web and swings himself down the block, careful not to be seen.

He's only been to Flash's house once for decathlon practice but his senses fill in any gap in his memory and direct him to a large house. Peter presses the doorbell and steps back, looking over the well-kept exterior. It's hard to believe someone broke in last night. Not a window is scratched, not a knick on the door. Whoever assaulted Mr. Thompson was welcomed inside.

The door swings open and Peter swallows thickly as the towering officer steps in the doorway. "Peter," Mr. Thompson says, a degree of surprise crossing his features, but it's not a real surprise. It's almost like he expected him. Like he was waiting for him. "What brings you here?" He asks.

"H-hey, Mr. Thompson. May I come in?"

Mr. Thompson wets his lips, thinking for a moment, and opens the door wider and steps out of the way for Peter to enter.

"Thanks," he mumbles, crossing the threshold into the house.

"Flash isn't home, if you're looking for him."

"Oh, no, that's okay, I — "

The door slams shut and Mr. Thompson jerks Peter back. "Whoa!"

He slams Peter to the wall and holds him there. Peter grabs at his hand, ready to fight his way free, but Mr. Thompson doesn't do anything else. Just leans in real close and whispers, "I know you're him."

Peter stares up at him.

There's no way —

He wasn't there —

He was gone —

They took off his mask and he wasn't there —

He couldn't know —

How does he know?

"Julia wouldn't give you up but she said that if we knew who she was, we'd know who you are."

Peter ignores his heart beating its way out of his chest at the mere mention of her name and focuses on Mr. Thompson's face inches from his. "And who am I?" He questions.

Mr. Thompson releases his hold on Peter and steps back. "You're Peter," he huffs. "Not anyone or anything else. I don't work for them anymore."

Peter adjusts his shirt collar so he can breathe and watches Mr. Thompson. "Give me one reason I shouldn't turn you in right now."

"Because she was here," he says, and Peter's heart swells. "Julia. Last night…"

(oh, my God —)

(she's alive — )

(she's _alive_ — )

"I saw how much they were hurting her," Mr. Thompson continues, "using her to get to Spider-Man. As soon as the shield went down, I slipped the Arc Reactor in her pocket and left with the Juvenator."

"You've had it this whole time?" Peter exclaims. "Why didn't you say anything?!"

"I had to keep it safe."

"From who?"

"Simon."

"Oh, and I'm just supposed to believe you're now working against him? I guess things change once you realize your son tried to yeet you out of existence."

"Eugene didn't set off that bomb at the hospital," he replies, a confusion lacing his tone. "I did. You really think my son is capable of something like that?"

Peter's insides twist with guilt. He didn't think Flash was capable when he first heard about it. But he's seen him do some mean things to Julia, he's even been rude to Peter, but he was never bad. Maybe Flash always had good intentions and he really was trying to watch over Julia by getting close to her. It adds up that Mr. Thompson blamed the bombing on him so he didn't blow his cover.

But what kind of father does that?

"So you use your son to cover up your mistakes?" Peter asks.

Mr. Thompson shakes his head. "It wasn't a mistake."

"People died."

"And it would have been a lot more. I was undercover for the NYPD, we've been trying to infiltrate Simon's ring for a while now and I had authorization from the FBI to do what I did. Simon Marshall needs to be stopped, whatever that may be. I gave Julia the Reactor because if the power source and the device were separated I thought it would buy us some time before…" Mr. Thompson stops himself, his voice fading as he's overcome with fear. And that fear spreads to Peter like a poison, settling in his stomach and leaving him queasy.

"Before what?" Peter asks.

Mr. Thompson looks at him."The end."

"Well, that sounds awful."

"But she took it, they did something to her, and I tried to put up a fight but she took it and now Simon has it which means _he_ has it — "

"Who?"

Mr. Thompson shakes his head, turning away from Peter and moving into the living room. Peter follows him through the house. "Mr. Thompson, I need to know. Who has the Juvenator? Is he an old guy? And I mean like really old, like 'should probably already be buried' old?"

Mr. Thompson takes a breath as if finding his resolve, turns to Peter, and nods. "We never said his name, though. Only his code name."

"That's so cool," Peter breathes in awe, then remembers this is actually serious and countless people in the city are relying on him. "What was it?" He asks.

Mr. Thompson looks at him. "His name is — "

A crash pierces through the window —

And Peter rushes Mr. Thompson —

And the pair dive to the floor —

And Peter lays still —

And then the blood starts spilling.


	3. Chapter 3

{ Julia }

Julia slings herself over the warehouse gate, tucking and landing on her feet, and waltzes inside the guarded entrance. She adjusts the payload strapped to her back as she makes her way through the distribution center. A mess of thoughts bombard her own and she filters through them for a quiet voice and follows it to an office upstairs.

"Arach, you're not permitted up here," a guard says. "Boss is busy — "

Julia swipes her hand across the air and a web engulfs the man, dragging him across the corridor and attaching him to the wall.

He grunts in pain and she ignores his string of swearing directed at her as she fires a web at the door knob, pulls it open, and marches into the meeting. They don't notice her presence, not with Simon craning over the desk and arguing with the other men in the room. Silvio sits in a plush chair with a hand to his temple, and his bored expression changes with intrigue when he sees her striding over to them.

Julia releases the webs along her back, sliding the Juvenator around to her front, and drops it on the desk. A metallic clang rings out and silences the bickering men.

She stands before them, all gawking at her, and removes her dark mask.

 _I can't believe she actually found it —_

 _I knew she'd retrieve it —_

 _Val owes me twenty bucks —_

 _She actually complied —_

Of course, she complied. Silvio said compliance will be rewarded and right now, she's collecting.

"I want to see him."

Silvio narrows his grey eyes at her, careful and calculating. He waves his hand. "Leave us."

The men exit the room, Julia eyeing Simon's lingering glare as he departs, and the door shuts behind them.

Silvio stands from his desk.

 _See who? Your father? Or your boy?_

"Does it matter? You said all I had to do was get the Juvenator. I got it. So what's the big deal? I want to see him."

Silvio watches her. Julia always hated when people held conversations spoken solely in their eyes but now she can hear their hidden words and nothing is secret. Even a quiet, calm voice like Silvio's.

"I want you to see something else first," he voices aloud. "Come." He grabs his cane leaning against his desk and heads to a door at the front of the office. She's so annoyed she's not sure she wants to hear the rest of his thoughts so she slides a finger over her inhibitor and turns it on for the time being, and it's weird hearing silence after hearing everyone for so long.

Silvio presses his hand to a scanner and the door slides open. Julia follows him through the opening and steps out onto a private balcony overlooking the rows of production lines. Soldiers strip and clean their weaponry, scientists measure chemicals, engineers scribble across a clear marker board —

If Julia didn't know any better, she'd say they were working on —

"In Sicily, my father was notorious in Corleone's underworld syndicates," Silvio explains. "He forced my brother and I to smuggle kilos of heroin under our clothes across borders. I was six. Six years old and learning the value of hard work, dedication, but most importantly, loyalty. My father was killed not long after by the Albanians, and even though he was gone, his colleagues took my brother and I in and we continued his work.

"We expanded to America," he continues, moving to a set of stairs, "and that unity that existed in our home so long ago continues here today."

Julia joins him in the walk down to the production floor and they wander through the rows of workers who pause as they pass and bow their heads in respect to their leader. And she's impressed when Silvio humbly returns the gesture.

"We are a family," he says to Julia. "You can be part of it, too, if you like. You can have a life here. A good one. You have the chance to make the world a better place. A safer, easier place. You did that tonight. You can do it again."

Julia looks out over the workers, unsure if she truly wants to be part of this.

Did she make the world safer tonight?

Is the world better tonight?

She just wanted to return the Juvenator to its owner and make her family whole again. But the only person better off tonight —

Is her.

She thought if she got the device, she'd be done here and could see her father, maybe even —

Julia spots a control booth on an upper level streaming live feed on their monitors and —

Peter appears and —

Julia's heart jumps.

Peter —

He's alive—

Alive and okay and safe —

He's asleep in bed at home —

(why are you home — )

(why aren't you searching for me? )

(Peter — )

(did you give up on me?)

Julia inhales a breath to calm her churning insides. They have eyes on him. Someone positioned across the street. She wanted to see him when she got the Juvenator from Flash's house but Peter's apartment wasn't on the route laid out on her display and she couldn't risk diverting her path, and she can't give herself away now, there's someone watching him, they could kill him in an instant. She can't turn back now. She can't.

She made the world better tonight. Tonight marks the beginning of reuniting people with loved ones. She made the world better, and she can do it again.

She will do it again.

"Even if it hurts people you love?" She asks Silvio.

"You are doing this for the people you love," he says.

Julia nods absently as she meanders down an aisle of chemists swirling flasks and pouring them into small vials.

"You and Doctor Marshall were the last ones to be in the Juvenator's presence and, to his best knowledge, the whereabouts of the device were practically nonexistent," Silvio says, following her. "And then you find it in one night… How?"

Julia scoffs and picks up a vial from a centrifuge. "Maybe because Simon was a bit preoccupied with Captain America beating his ass," she mumbles, inspecting the freshly mixed compound. She glances at Silvio standing perfectly still, his hands gripping the silver skull of his cane and a brow nearly reaching his receding grey hairline, and she pops the vial back into the machine. "Sorry."

He chuckles softly. "Do not fret about your new colleague and the disagreements between you. You will have what you seek."

"And what might that be?"

"Sir," a voice says, interrupting their conversation, and Silvio turns to the man.

"Ah! _Meraviglioso!_ Julia, I want you to meet the genius behind your abilities. This is Val Cooper, our engineering specialist, and Doctor Jonas Harrow who I believe you met not long ago."

Julia looks at the two men and recognizes Harrow from before. And someone mentioned Val earlier but she knows him farther back than a few days.

"Queens' golden girl," Val says, stepping forward and shaking her hand. "It's a pleasure to finally see you in action, Julia."

"I know you," she says, remembering his light hair and dark smirk. "You're the one who talked to me that day before school."

"And you were very helpful. I hear you are that way again, returning our Juvenator to us."

"I've heard a lot about you as well," Doctor Harrow says, reaching to shake her hand.

Julia looks him over. She remembers Doctor Connors not being very fond of him, and the way he treated her as a patient tells her all she needs to know about him.

She grips his hand tightly in her own. "No offense, but I've never heard of you."

He laughs. "I wouldn't expect you to."

"Doctor Harrow is known for his…" Silvio pauses, searching for the right word. "exploratory procedures. And your abilities are not his first trip round the merry-go-round."

Julia looks at him questioningly, and Doctor Harrow nods toward the other side of the warehouse. She looks at Silvio and he nods once in approval. She turns and begins walking away with the doctor as Val steals Silvio's attention to a document in his hands. Julia's curiosity grows but she doesn't dare ask what they're working on.

"Meet Hammerhead," Doctor Harrow says.

Julia follows his gaze, her eyes settling on a man much larger than the other soldiers around him. She tries not to stare at the misshappenness of his square head.

"I found Mr. Hammer one night, dying in a back alley. He was disfigured and delirious with pain. I operated on him for three days, replacing his skull with Vibranium. When he woke, all he could remember was an old movie poster from the alley."

Julia watches the man, Hammerhead, assemble his assault rifle in record time. "He doesn't even know his name?" She asks.

"No," Silvio says.

Julia looks at him suddenly standing nearby. Her eyes travel around the area he was previous standing and notices Val has disappeared.

"But we gave him one," he continues, moving closer, and directs Julia's attention to Hammerhead again. "We gave him a purpose, a home. We are a bunch of misfits like yourself and from nothing, we have created everything."

Julia looks over the production lines of workers moving like clockwork, like a team, like a family. And they helped her, they made her stronger, they're working to bring back her mom —

"Now tell me," Silvio says. He places a firm hand on her shoulder. "Do you still want to see that boy?"

Julia grips her mask tightly in her hands. She looks down at the black fabric and white eyes. Everything used to be so simple, black and white, good and bad. But now…

She looks up at the control station, at the monitors filled with Peter blissfully asleep.

"He made his choice." Julia looks up at Silvio. "I've made mine."

Silvio smiles and squeezes her shoulder. He looks out over the busy warehouse —

His home —

Hammerhead's home —

Her home.

"Welcome to the Commission, Arachne."

Simon shows Julia to her private sleeping quarters and she waits as he punches the code into the keypad outside. The door is thick and metal like all the others in this place and unlocks with a mechanical hiss. He pushes it open to reveal a simple bedroom and as Julia wanders around inside, she discovers it at least has a bathroom separate from the communal washroom (she hasn't seen many women soldiers, the sexist bastards).

"From now on, either myself, Hammerhead, or one of the docs will come to you if your services are needed. Don't wander the compound, don't leave the compound, and don't go poking around like the wanna-be-know-it-all you are. Feeding times are at six, noon, and six. Don't be late or there won't be any left. Even for you."

Julia flashes him a tight lipped smile and he leaves, shutting the door behind him with a loud clank. She looks around the concrete room. The compound feels less like a home and more like a prison now that she's complied.

(but compliance will be rewarded — )

(compliance is always rewarded — )

Julia removes her suit and steps into the shower. She doesn't know the last time she showered. She doesn't even know what day it is, but the water is familiar on her fingertips. She looks at her hands. Her hands that have known bruises and blood, that have known softness and warmth.

Peter's hands are warm. So warm. And the water is warm on her skin like Peter's that night. That night she patched him up. That night she cleaned his wounds, the water erasing the blood from his sculpted figure and the way he held her hand and kept it close to his chest, holding her like all the other times he's held her hand, not keeping her there but being there if she wanted to stay and she _wanted_ to stay, she —

She presses her forehead to the tiled wall.

(Peter — )

(come back — )

(come back for me — )

(why are you not coming back for me?)

Julia turns off the shower, slips into Commission issued nightwear, and crawls into bed. She tosses and turns for what must be hours. Her brain can't seem to shut off the endless stream of questions about what Silvio's working on and what that meeting in his office was about and what Val was showing him and why are the scientists creating so much of whatever they're creating and and and —

The door to her room unlocks with a metal clank and not a moment passes before Julia hears the others emerging from their rooms and howling down the hall to the cafeteria. A window near the ceiling in her room shows first signs of daylight and she turns away from it, pressing a pillow over her head.

She just wants to sleep but the soldiers are so loud, she groans as she pushes off the covers and stands from the bed. She changes into a pair of pants and walks the empty halls, following their commotion to the cafeteria. She might as well get food if she's going to be awake.

There's a soft murmur of TVs playing the news overhead and quiet whispers behind her back that she ignores. The buffet station is pretty picked over and the cook stares at her with nonexistent sympathy.

Julia picks an apple from an abundant pile and turns to leave, glancing at the tables packed full of Commission soldiers. And now that she's closer and not looking at them from above, she sees their faces: tired and scowling. She recognizes a few from a while back, a group that escaped prison, a double homicide, an armed robbery, and they're all staring at her.

They're staring back and nudging others around them too and they look up at her and —

" _Sources say a masked vigilante entered his home — "_

Julia looks up at the TV and a sinking pit forms in her stomach. She looks across the room to another TV with a different news show but they're reporting the same story.

" _This just in: A case of battery and assault — "_

" _Harold Thompson — "_

" _Masked vigilante — "_

" _Dangerous — "_

" _Is nowhere safe?"_

Julia clenches her fists.

They're talking about her.

They're talking about her and they have no idea what dangerous is —

"Man, you gotta be kiddin' me!"

Julia's eyes slide over to a man at the back of the room.

"Girl, you know how hard we work?!" Another voices.

"She don't know!"

Murmurs of agreeance breakout amongst the sea of convict-turned-soldiers.

"Maybe it's time we teach her!"

Another wave erupts, louder, more confident this time, and Julia rolls her eyes at the massing followers rising from their seats. "Really, guys?" She says. "I just wanted to join you nice people for some breakfast."

"Should have gotten here on time then," the man says.

Julia glances behind her, sensing soldiers encroaching from all sides. She looks at one of the larger men. "Did you get enough to eat? You don't look like you got enough. Here, take this." Julia throws the apple at him and he catches it out of reflex —

And Julia to web his arms to his sides.

Another soldier comes at her with a lunch tray and she fires a web, sticking it to the surface, and pulls —

He smacks another man in the face with the tray.

Someone comes up behind her and —

Julia ducks, firing a web at their back as they stumble forward and —

The momentum hurls her with them and —

She kicks a nearing soldier away and —

Another grabs at her ankle.

Julia jumps, pulling herself away and sticking to the ceiling, and recognizes the man as one who spoke out earlier. The one who doubted she knew the value of hard work.

As if she hasn't been working for her future her entire life —

As if she didn't work to discover Simon —

As if she didn't risk her life again and again —

She fires a web at the man's feet and pulls, yanking him to the ground. He hits his head on a table on the way down and Julia webs his arms to his sides. He grunts and groans at his injuries as he tries to worm his way out of the webbing, and she webs his mouth shut for good measure. He stops struggling, his eyes closing in defeat, and Julia crouches down next him.

"Man, you know how hard I work?" She taunts with a smile. He huffs and puffs, but doesn't dare look her in the eye.

In fact, no else dares to come near her.

Julia stands, proudly looking around the room with hoards of men cowering to the walls. She senses a figure behind her and turns to find Lonnie standing in the doorway (and her standing in the wreckage of bodies). All he does is nod his head over his shoulder and Julia knows she's busted.

She sighs heavily and kickflips a lunch tray into her hands. As she leaves, she snaps it in two and throws the shards behind her like a frisbee. The trays pierce the wall with two thuds followed by a man's frightful yelp.

She joins Lonnie in the corridor and walks with him to Silvio's office.

"If they didn't know before," he says slowly, "they know now."

Julia looks up at the pale man. It's the first time he's ever said anything to her, and it leaves her with a smile. She wonders how long he stood there watching the fight go down.

He opens the door for her, a knowing, almost proud smirk on his face, and she steps into the office, scoffing at the fact she's made a friend in this sinkhole and that she's working with the people who tried to kill her.

Simon leans against Silvio's empty desk and lowers his hand from his scarred face. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

Julia grins. "I do actually. I got your device. You're welcome."

"He gave you up," Hammerhead growls. "Ratted you out to the cops!"

"There are so many things wrong with that," she mutters. "Okay, number one: he didn't describe the masked vigilante. Two: he is a cop, he was in your inner circle, how you missed that oversight, I have no idea, and three: he said he wouldn't give names, so, I saved your ass!"

"Doesn't matter if we all end up behind bars!"

Julia gestures to the relatively quiet warehouse. "Do you see the FBI at our door?"

Simon stands upright, suddenly formal and courteous, and Julia doesn't even have to look behind her to know Silvio walks into the room.

"Sir, I warned you of the repercussions of sending a girl to do a soldier's job."

"Is your masculinity really that fragile?" Julia sneers.

"She was careless," he continues, "got herself on the news!"

"He reported nothing stolen!"

"That's cause none of this is on the books," Hammerhead reminds her.

Julia's mouth twitches in a scowl.

Silvio walks around his desk, moving slower than she remembers and relying on his cane more. He lowers himself into his chair and if Julia didn't know any better, she'd say he was deaf and can't hear a word they're saying.

"Why do you think he reported it to begin with?" Simon questions. "He wanted Spider-Man to know. He wants to talk to him. This is why we don't leave witnesses."

Julia stares at him. "I won't apologize for sparing a man's life." And before she even finished her sentence, Simon is shaking his head and turning away from her to the pane of glass windows.

"Sir, we know the kid will be there," Hammerhead says.

Julia clenches her fists to keep herself from dangling the soldier from a web over the production lines.

"He'll go this afternoon, they'll talk, and we can kill two birds with one stone."

Julia's heart lurches. Panic floods through her. "You don't have to do this," she pleads.

"He is right," Silvio croaks.

She looks at him, and what once was an expression of calmality and boredom is clear and focused.

"This must be remedied."

(Peter — )

(please — )

(please no — )

(not him — )

Julia steps toward him. "I did what you asked — "

"By any means necessary?"

"Is killing necessary?"

A silence stretches over the room, and Julia looks at each of the grown men, wondering where their sense of dignity hides.

"We _don't_ leave witnesses," Simon repeats, and as Hammerhead nods in agreeance, Julia realizes they lost their humanity a long time ago, even willingly gave it up for the lives they lead. If this is what it costs to get her mother back, she won't pay it.

"Simon, I want you on point. Hammer as your second."

Julia gawks at the decrepit man. "Silvio — "

"Thank you, sir." Simon nods once and leaves the room with Hammerhead, saying, "Gear up squad: Alpha. I want this quick and clean — "

"Silvio," Julia repeats, and he doesn't even look at her. She thinks of what made him listen to the others and she hates herself for having to stoop so low, for losing the relationship she had with him. " _Sir._ Permission to attend — "

"No, Julia," he says, irritation and tiredness overcoming him. "Let them take care of this. You have done enough."

But she did what he wanted —

She got it back —

No one had to die —

No one needs to die —

And now Peter —

"Escort her to her room."

Julia snaps out of her trance and realizes Lonnie is at her side, his iron grip around her arm, and he's guiding her backwards, pulling her away from this room and her one chance of saving his life and she wants to scream, she wants to tear this place apart and tear Silvio apart but she can't, not yet, she has to go, she has to, she —

She has to save him.

Julia reaches a hand to her neck and slides the inhibitor off.

And she and Lonnie are thinking the same thing.

If they thought she was dangerous before, it's time she teaches them what dangerous really means.

* * *

{ Peter }

"Oh, God…"

Peter watches, horrified, as Mr. Thompson grimaces at the pain and the blood pouring from his shoulder. He presses his hands to the wound to stop the bleeding and he can't help but think of Uncle Ben —

(stop it — )

(shut up — )

"Is there an exit wound?" Mr. Thompson huffs.

Peter carefully rolls him onto his side and looks at the red seeping onto his clothes. "Yeah," he answers. "Yeah, there's a disgusting, massive hole in your back."

"Then I'm okay." Mr. Thompson lies back down, his eyes closing with relief. "I'm okay."

The hair's on the back of Peter's neck stand up again —

And he flinches down —

And bullets fly overhead —

And a vase shatters in the kitchen —

Peter moves Mr. Thompson out of the shooter's line of fire, helping him sit upright against the fireplace. He slides off his backpack, pulling out his web-shooters, and slaps them onto his wrists.

"My gun," Mr. Thompson says. "It's in that drawer."

Peter looks to where he's pointing, aims at the dresser, shoots, and pulls the whole drawer over to them.

"That works."

Peter cringes a little at the mess he's creating. "Uh… Sorry." He takes the gun and places it in Mr. Thompson's hand. "You sure you're okay?"

"Just go. I'll call this in."

"Cool. Teamwork makes the dream work." He turns to leap into action but Mr. Thompson grabs his arm.

"Peter."

And the way he says it —

Something in his voice —

Maybe it's the fact he was shot but he sounds serious, more determined.

Peter looks at him.

"The Juvenator's gone."

Peter shakes his head, and a smile bursts from him because —

She was the one who took it —

And both she and the machine are gone but —

"Nothing's ever really gone," Peter says.

Mr. Thompson attempts a smile. "I hope you find her."

"If I'm lucky, one of them out there will know where she is." Peter grabs his mask from his backpack and slips it on over his head.

"Be careful."

"I'm always careful!" He moves out from the cover of the fireplace and a gunshot rings out —

He dives toward the other side of the room and feels the bullet whirring past, and looks to the wall the casing is now buried in. "Gotta more careful," he mumbles. "Karen, what are we up against?"

" _I'm detecting five hostiles."_ A view of the house from a bird's eyes view appears in Peter's display with five heat signatures surrounding the house and closing in.

"Are any of them — "

" _No."_

Peter sighs —

He can't think of that now —

He can't think of her now —

He focuses on the two at the back of the house and springs to his feet, firing a web and thrusting himself into the kitchen as the back door flings open and —

Peter kicks the guy in his chest, pushing him to the ground, and knocking the gun from the other guy's hands. Peter's legs are swiped out from under him and —

He rolls backward, flipping onto his feet, and webbing the soldier down.

"Alright, so, we got off on the wrong foot."

The second soldier comes at him and Peter tenses when he pulls out a knife.

"I see we're not a fan of puns."

The man lunges at him and Peter dodges it, grabbing his arm, and webbing it behind his back. Peter watches as he stumbles and falls to the ground. "I'm sorry, you've just — You've twisted my arm."

Another shot rings out from the front of the house and Peter turns back to the living room to check on Mr. Thompson and —

A bullet flies through the window and pierces the wall next to Peter.

He flinches back and stares at the bullet hole that could have been in head but missed him by a fraction of an inch, and —

It wasn't him that moved.

He looks to the direction it came from and sees movement through the broken window.

"Karen, zoom in on that."

And there —

Across the street —

Lies the shooter on the roof.

* * *

{ Julia }

Julia web-slings across town as fast as she can create them. Her lungs ache, her legs burn, but she keeps going, she has to —

She slings blind so The Commission can't trace her, relying solely on memory to direct her to Flash's neighborhood. Rows of houses appear, and she hears the soldiers thoughts and Mr. Thompson's thoughts and —

And him —

It's him —

Peter —

(is he really making puns mid fight?)

Julia swings herself in the direction of the fight and hears Hammerhead stationed across from the house tucked behind the ridgeline of the roof. She lands on an adjacent house and keeps low out of sight, tucking and rolling across the shingles.

But she senses Hammerhead's finger on the trigger.

 _C'mon, kid. Just one more step._

Julia's chest rises and falls with fast breaths, anger heating its way through her —

(don't you dare — )

 _Mr. Thompson —_

Peter —

 _I gotta check on him —_

No —

Peter, don't —

Excitement grows within Hammerhead as panic rises within Julia —

She lunges from her hiding spot, slinging herself next-door and shooting another web that grabs the tip of Hammerhead's gun and moves it away from him just enough to miss Peter.

Julia silently skids across a porch, disintegrating the webbing before Hammerhead even gets a chance to trace it back to her.

 _The hell?_

Hammerhead —

Simon stares at him. "Take the shot!" He yells.

"I did!"

"You missed?!"

"Shut up!"

Julia can't help but smile at the victory. She can still hear Peter, thinking and alive and —

And looking this way.

Simon and Hammerhead bicker back and forth until Simon's on the move, scrambling down from his position on the roof, muttering, "If you want something done right…"

"Shit," Julia mutters. She shoots a web and throws herself into the Thompson's house, slipping through an open window and landing silently on the wood floor. The remaining soldiers have to be taken out before Simon gets here or Peter will be overwhelmed with opposition.

A soldier sweeps the hallway and Julia tucks herself against the wall as the tip of a rifle pushes open the door. She holds her breath as the soldier steps further into the room until she grabs the barrel of the gun, flinging the soldier forward and onto the bed. She webs him face down and slips out of the room silent and undetected.

Julia slips down the hall to help with the next assailant and sees him. Peter's red and blue form punches, flips, and kicks against the soldiers. Her soldiers. She's supposed to be working with them, but she can't. Not when they're working against him.

One emerges from the hall, coming up behind Peter, and Julia swipes their legs out from under them and bounds out of sight into a bathroom. She presses herself against the tiled wall, listening to the bombardment of thoughts painting a picture of the fight as if she were in it herself.

 _What the hell?_

Peter —

 _That wasn't me, was it?_

She can _feel_ the confusion coming from him —

His eagerness of not being alone —

His adrenaline of the fight —

His focus on webbing the soldier —

Julia tilts her head back and closes her eyes. Her muscles ache from swinging across New York but it's nothing compared to the hole in her chest. She's wanted to be near him for so long and now she is, she's so close, and he has no idea —

He has no idea she's here, he has no idea what she's done, why this is happening, why he's in danger and it's her fault —

It's all her fault —

Julia's eyes snap open.

Sirens wail down the street —

Tires squeal on pavement —

Officers race toward the scene —

And Hammerhead's priming his weapon.

Julia glances down the hall. Peter's occupied with Simon, flipping around the room to avoid being punched. She quickly escapes through the window she came through and swings across the street to Hammerhead, covers the bullet chamber with webbing, and continues on her way as though she was never here.

 _You've got to be kidding…_

Julia smiles at Hammerhead's string of profanity.

Police cars skid to a stop in front of the Thompson's house, lights flashing, sirens blaring —

And Simon and Hammerhead and the soldiers are on the ropes —

" _Simon, get out of there now!"_

" _Retreat!"_

" _Screw this!"_

Julia swings back to base, hoping she returns before the others and no one will ever know she left.

Because she stopped it. Peter's alive and she stopped it, _they_ stopped it.

But she also caused it.

She doesn't deserve to be grateful he's alive, Peter could have died —

Peter could have died —

And it's her fault.

* * *

{ Peter }

There isn't time to change back into normal clothes. The police are already here and storming into the house. Peter kneels next to Mr. Thompson who's held up pretty well but he's lost a lot of blood. He stays with him until the paramedics lift him onto a gurney and carry him outside.

"Things could have been a whole lot worse," an officer says. "Glad you were here, Spider-Man."

Peter looks at the uniformed woman but doesn't feel very glad to be here. Someone got hurt because of him.

And then he sees her hand extended toward him.

"Oh." He shakes her hand with a nervous laugh. "Y-you know me. Wrong time, wrong place."

She chuckles and moves on to talk with a detective, but Peter stands still and looks at the hallway. The hairs on the back of his neck stand at attention and he _knows_ someone else was here. But they were gone before he could see them like a shadow disappearing in the night.

"Karen, who was that?" He asks in a low voice.

" _I couldn't get a reading. A frequency was hindering my sensors."_

He sighs, but nods. "It's okay. I'll review the footage later."

Peter swings outside and watches the first responders load Mr. Thompson into the ambulance. Guilt pricks his insides that his classmate's dad was hurt so badly, but then Mr. Thompson motions for the medics to stop and gestures for Peter to approach.

Peter looks around the street filled with police officers and points to himself. "Me?"

Mr. Thompson chuckles and nods. Peter shoots a web, swinging closer, and walks the last few steps over to him. The man shakes his hand and this time without having to say anything, Peter knows someone was grateful he was there.

And he feels something metal between their clasped palms.

And there's a smirk on Mr. Thompson's face.

"Go get 'em, Spider-Man."

Peter's brow furrows and he opens his mouth to ask what he means but the medics raise him into the ambulance and shut the doors between them. Peter watches as the lights flick on and the siren blares as the ambulance drive away toward the hospital.

Peter looks down at his hand and opens his palm to find a flash drive tucked inside.

"Holy shit."


	4. Chapter 4

{ Peter }

Peter bangs his fist on Ned's door. He grips the edges of the frame, hunched over and catching his breath. He webbed his way across town all the way from Flash's house, changed into normal clothes in a back alley, and ran up here as fast as he could. The metal flash drive is slick in his sweaty palm but he hasn't let it go.

The door opens and Peter stands upright, taking a step back as Mrs. Leeds appears, smiling as she recognizes the unexpected visitor.

"Peter," she says, welcoming him inside, "come in, come in."

"Thanks, Mrs. Leeds." She steps aside as he walks through the threshold and is met with the smell of sweet, plumeria flowers. And then he catches a waft of Korean barbeque and his stomach growls with hunger. He glances out the window where the sun has lowered behind the skyscrapers. It's been such a crazy afternoon, his own needs haven't even crossed his mind because —

(finding her is all he needs — )

Ned emerges from his room, drawing Peter from his reverie, and walks through the living room to him.

"What are you doing here?" His friend asks. "This isn't about that new Fortnite update, is it? Because I — "

"No, I, uh…" Peter laughs nervously, clearing his throat and glancing at Mrs. Leeds who's returned to mixing the pan of stir fry on the stove. He leans in close to Ned. "I actually need to talk with the guy in the chair."

Ned lifts his head, his shoulders broadening with confidence, and gestures to the hallway behind him leading to his room. "Welcome to the Batcave."

Peter chuckles, relaxing a little as he follows him to his room. He looks around the familiar movie poster covered walls, anxiously tapping his fingernails together as he grips the flash drive in his palm. He knows he shouldn't be nervous. He just doesn't know what they're going to find. And if what they find is even helpful in finding her.

Ned closes the door behind them and Peter turns to his friend. "What did you need to talk about, young padawan?"

"I need you to hack into this," he says, offering him the flash drive.

Ned looks at him, skeptical, but takes it nonetheless. "It's not the 80s. No one says hack anymore."

"Just" — Peter groans — "Can you open it or not?"

"Can I open it," Ned grumbles, scoffing as he slides into his chair and twirls around to his computer. He plugs it in and begins typing away on his keyboard. Peter watches him work and can keep up for the most part until he opens the software's macro coding and starts programming it with his own to get past firewalls.

"Sorry that DNA test we ran didn't come back with a match," Ned comments.

Peter waves away his apology. He almost forgot that after Julia was taken and the hospital was in a frenzy, they swabbed his wrist where that old guy grabbed him. But the results couldn't find him in the police database (Ned hacked Mr. Thompson's credentials, it was awesome).

"There's a reason for everything," he mumbles, his eyes narrowing as he follows along with each of Ned's keystrokes.

"It's just that Julia's better at biology things in the Spider Squad, you know?"

Peter stares at him. "We are not calling ourselves that."

"Why not?"

"Ned — " Peter grabs at his hair, frustration flowing through him. "This isn't what I came here to talk about!"

"I don't see why we can't do two things at once!"

"Because there isn't time!"

"It's gonna take time to hack into this!"

"You just said no one says hack!"

"Everyone says hack! People love to hack into something even if it's their own password!"

"Then why did you tell me otherwise?!"

"Because I wanted to be the one to say — "

Ned's computer beeps, and Peter looks to the screen where the coding as disappeared and displays a single, unnamed file.

"We're in."

Peter frowns at Ned, double tapping the file open, and as much as Peter wants to be annoyed, the screen is flooded with pictures and news articles and police reports and —

"Whoa…" Ned breathes, leaning back and lifting his hands to show he didn't cause the chain reaction. "What is this?"

Peter's eyes dart across the screen as files keep opening one right after the other until the bombardment of information stops and a single photograph of a man appears in the center. Chills run up and down Peter's skin, every hair on his body standing at attention, every instinct screaming at him to run and hide —

"It's him," he says.

Ned moves the image to side (courtesy of Alias Investigations) and browses a few documents. "His name is Silvio Manfredi."

Peter scoffs as he looks at the picture again. "With that hair? Yeah, he's silver alright." He grabs a chair and pulls up a seat next to Ned, getting a better view of the screen. "How old is this guy?"

"I don't know, some of the information on the records is redacted." Ned moves the files around and clicks through a series of images. "The time stamp on these photos are decades apart but he's not aging."

"Wait, cycle back." Ned clicks through the photos once more showing the man at a healthy age but he looks worse for wear in the last few and Ned finds the image where he first starts aging. Peter looks at the time stamp. "This was three months ago."

Ned leans back in his chair, realization hitting him. "Wasn't that just before — "

"Yeah." Peter swallows thickly. His voice is lost in his throat as he thinks back on the last three months and everything somehow leading to his withering figure. It started with the water treatment facility collapsing then there was the hospital bombing and then the Juvenator came into play and —

"Well, what does he want?" Ned asks.

Peter sighs deeply. "I don't know… But a guy that doesn't age suddenly starts aging and now has a killer Benjamin Button weapon can't be good."

"We probably shouldn't say his name."

"Well, he's not Voldemort."

"Fair. But just to be safe, we should give him a codename."

"Mr. Thompson said they gave him one."

Ned performs a search through the file and discovers a document titled, "Silvermane."

Peter shares a look with his friend. "Cool," they state together in awe.

And then the excitement fades from Ned. "Yeah, but what's not cool," he says, looking at the photo, "is that he's the guy you met at the hospital, right? He's the guy who took Julia?"

Peter stares at the image of Silvio. He'll never be able to forget his iron grip or his piercing grey eyes, and it's not cool. None of this is cool.

Peter nods, not trusting his voice enough to speak, and Ned doesn't push him to. He clicks through the files, reading and sifting through the accounts of his appearances, and Peter notices a picture of Silvermane with Simon Marshall accompanying him in the background.

"And that's the guy that tried to kill her," Peter says, anger sparking inside him as he points to his scarred face. "And me."

"Okay, so," Ned says slowly, "I'm gonna need to destroy my laptop after viewing this."

Peter grimaces. "Yeah, probably. Sorry." He returns to reviewing the information and points to a series of documents in the corner. "Click on that."

Ned opens the file to reveal a number of police records and database files about Silvermane. It illustrates his past in Corleone, Sicily as racketeer in the Maggia, how he formed an alliance with Hydra.

"He's worked with Hydra?" Ned says, a little in shock but mostly fear underlining his voice.

Peter narrows his eyes as he reads over the latest of Silvermane's movements. "Now he's working with something called Roxxon Energy."

Ned opens a web browser and types the name into the search engine. A website for the company appears, he clicks on it and finds a map of the company's current location, and a hundred red thumbtacks pop up across the United States.

"And it's literally everywhere." Peter hangs his head and sighs. "That's just — "

"Horrifying, terrible, ominous?"

Peter lifts his head. "Great. I was gonna say great." He leans back in his chair and runs his hands through his hair as if to stop or at least slow the stream of questions pulling his mind in every direction.

What is a Hydra supporter, Maggia racketeer, who doesn't age doing in Queens?

What does he want?

Why did he take Julia?

"What are you gonna do?" Ned asks.

Peter leans forward and surveys the dashboard of information again. It must have taken Mr. Thompson a long time to put this together. And Silvermane's gotten away with all of it for even longer.

He took Julia for a reason. Whatever he's doing, whatever he's planning, Julia has to be removed from his equation. Queens isn't safe until she is. Silvermane took Julia for a reason, so Peter's taking her back.

"I'm gonna find her," he says.

"Not by yourself — "

"Ned, no. You're already too involved. I don't want you getting hurt — "

"Julia's already hurt," Ned says, and Peter looks at his friend, reading the pain and anger on his face, and realizes Julia's his friend too. "Peter, we don't even know if she's alive — "

"She is," he assures.

(because if she isn't — )

(if she's not — )

(he doesn't want to think about that — )

"Flash's dad told me she was there," he quietly continues. "She's the one who took the device, and I — I think…" Peter swallows, his voice caught between his heart and his head as fear poisons his stomach. He can barely stand to say it but he has to assume the worst.

"I think she's working for Silvermane," he says.

Ned doesn't say anything. Just nods slowly, turns to the computer, and begins typing up a storm.

"What are you doing?" Peter asks.

"If Spider Squad is gonna be whole again, you're gonna need a data compiling algorithm to get a location."

Peter looks at his friend, not even surprised by his courage, but slightly impressed by his coding skills. "Alright, guy in the chair," he chuckles, "let's find her."

* * *

{ Julia}

Julia sticks to the ceilings and walls as she tiptoes through the compound, avoiding cameras angled down corridors. Thoughts from patrolmen nearby enter her mind's ears and she waits in a darkened corner for them to pass. She slinks down the corridor back to her room and pauses at the entry to the production floor. She feels —

She feels sad —

Frustrated —

Scared —

Julia peeks her head into the warehouse and sees the soldiers who stormed the Thompson's house standing in a row. They look like dogs with their tails between their legs with their heads lowered and their shoulders slumped. Simon and Hammerhead stand on the opposite side of them with Silvio. Anger sparks within Julia, flaring and heating at the lies Simon spins so the blame never falls on him.

"Disappointment doesn't begin to cover it," Silvio berates. "How does one _boy_ overpower seven highly trained operatives?"

The room is silent.

And guilt trickles into Julia's stomach.

(because it wasn't just one boy, was it?)

"This is an open conversation," Silvio encourages with a smile. "Answers are welcome."

Silence.

"No one? No takers? At least tell me the police man is dead."

Another silence.

"So you failed at that too." Silvio shakes his head as he looks over the row of soldiers. He looks behind him to Simon, nods ever so slightly, and faces the men once more.

Julia watches Simon grab a metallic syringe from a cart and bring it to a man's neck. He pulls the trigger, the man winces in pain, and Simon moves to the next one. And the next one. And the next.

Julia grimaces as she hears their thoughts and feels their pain of the needle puncturing their skin as each of them are injected with something.

Injected with —

No —

"Fair enough," Silvio says.

No —

Wait —

"Everytime I tap my cane, one of you will die."

Julia looks between Silvio, gripping his silver cane, and Hammerhead who lifts the Juvenator and tucks it into his shoulder —

"Until you give me what I want."

No —

No, no, no —

Hammerhead aims at a soldier and —

 _Tap —_

He fires the weapon —

And light blasts across the room —

And an energy wave crashes through Julia —

And the lights overhead shudder and flicker, surging with power and —

 _Thud._

Julia clasps a hand over her mouth.

She stares at the body on the floor —

He's dead —

Dead dead dead —

 _Tap, tap, tap —_

 _Bang, bang, bang —_

 _Thud, thud, thud —_

And Silvio —

Silvio's younger —

Stronger —

And they're dead. They're all dead.

Julia's stomach lurches —

She's gonna throw up, she's gonna throw up, she has to get out of here, she —

She turns and runs down the hall, she doesn't know where she's going, she just knows she has to leave that place, she needs to leave this place —

This wasn't supposed to happen —

No one was supposed to die —

She just wanted to protect him, Peter —

No one needed to die, no one needs to die, but they're dying, they're being killed, and it's her fault, it's all her fault fault fault —

Julia stumbles along a wall and clings to the surface to keep her upright. She looks through her haze of tears and finds herself in an new part of the compound. There's a single door at the end of the hall, and she hears something behind it.

Something quiet.

Something… dormant.

She slowly approaches the door and peeks through the small window to find a white room, pristine as the one she woke in, and a man slumped over on the floor. A jacket binds his arms and metal gloves separate his fingers.

Julia looks at him curiously. His figure is familiar, thinner, but not unrecognizable. It's as if she knows —

 _Julia._

Julia gasps, jumping back at the voice in her head that isn't her own.

The man slowly raises his head and looks up at her with matted hair, gaunt cheeks, and bright eyes.

Her heart skips a beat and she peers closer at the man.

"Stephen?"

* * *

{ Peter}

Peter turns his key in the lock, slowly opens the front door, and peeks around. He doesn't see May in the living room or kitchen which means she's asleep in bed. He softly closes it behind him, takes a step to head to his room, but stops short at the sight of May barreling toward him.

"Where have you been?!" She cries. "This can't be like the ferry all over again!"

Peter flinches as she wraps him in a hug (which is very different than he was expecting) but sighs a breath of relief that she's not too mad at him. "I know," he admits. "I'm sorry. I had the internship then I was at Ned's, I — I just lost track of time. And that's no excuse, I know, I should have texted, I — I'm just sorry." He pulls back to look at her and after the long day both of them have had, he's just grateful to be home. "I'm glad you're okay."

"Yeah, but poor Mr. Thompson can't catch a break," May says, adjusting her glasses.

Peter shrugs, thinking back on this afternoon. "At least Spider-Man was there."

May scoffs as she walks away. "Spider-Man causes trouble."

"Spider-Man stops trouble," Peter says, watching her cross the living room and leaving him to stand alone.

May pauses tidying up the magazines on the end table. "Peter, I know you look up to the guy, you occasionally work with him, you have that costume of him, but he's dangerous."

Peter's mouth gapes open as he flounders for the right words that won't give him away. "How is helping people dangerous? It's no different than you helping the less fortunate."

"Bad things happen don't happen when I help out," May says, tucking a book on the shelf.

Frustration sparks inside Peter—

"Bad things happen all the time! He just does something about it!"

May looks at him, puzzled. "Are you defending him?"

"N-no! Maybe… I — I just think he's a hero and does a lot of good and doesn't want the public turning against him."

"How do you know what he wants?"

"Because I'm — "

Peter stops.

He almost said it.

He almost told her —

He clutches the strap keeping his backpack slung over his shoulder.

"I — I know him, I work with him," he fibs, quieter this time. "He works with Mr. Stark." Peter hates the words as he says it. Even he doesn't buy that. He feels May's eyes boring into him and looks anywhere but her.

"How did you know about Woodhaven?" She asks. "This morning? You didn't want me to go."

Peter continues staring at the floor as he shakes his head. "Everyone knows Woodhaven's sketchy…"

"I want to see your backpack."

Peter's stomach jolts to his throat.

His backpack —

The suit —

He looks up at her.

"What?"

"I want to see your backpack," she repeats, walking over to him. "I keep buying you new ones, I want to know why. What's wrong with this one?"

Peter turns his back to the wall. "Nothing."

"Really?"

"May, it's fine — "

"Then let me see it — " She swiftly tugs on the strap, slipping it from his grasp.

"No — May!"

Peter watches helpless as she quickly unzips the pouch and stares at the red and blue fabric tucked inside.

Guilt, fear, and regret tangle inside him. He could throw up he feels so guilty about not telling her his greatest secret, for causing her such worry and stress. She wasn't supposed to find out this way. She wasn't supposed to find out at all.

"May…" He sighs.

May silently removes the mask and stares at the black rimmed eyes. "Who knows?" She says. Her voice is thick with tears but she doesn't show any. "Besides Tony," she adds, disdainfully.

Peter looks at his feet. He wishes she wouldn't hate him for this. This isn't Mr. Stark's fault. It's his and he knows it.

"I'm assuming Ned," she says.

He nods.

"Anyone else?"

He has to come clean —

He has to tell her —

If there's ever a time to tell her—

"Ju — "

"Just him?"

"J-julia," Peter breathes. "S-she knows — _knew_ — too b-but that's — that's it." He nods eagerly, wishing, praying, hoping she believes him because he can't take this, he can't stand here while he's being torn apart, he can't even say her name, he knows she's alive but she's gone, she's still gone gone gone —

"Julia," May says slowly and softly. "Is that why… Is that what happened to her?"

Peter exhales a sharp laugh. "That's the thing," he says, feeling like his chest is going to cave in, "no one knows what happened to her… That's why I was at Ned's, he's helping me find her, Mr. Stark's helping me find her, that's why I was in Woodhaven today, Mr. Thompson's involved in this, but no one knows where she is and I… I am to blame."

May's already shaking her head and Peter walks over to her, he has to make her understand, she can't talk him out of this, it's his fault —

"That's why I didn't want you to know," he explains. "That's why you were in the hospital, that's why Uncle Ben is — "

Peter takes a shaky breath and wipes the tears from his cheeks.

"You're right," he tells her. "Bad things happen. But if I do nothing, they get away with the bad things. And I can't let that happen. Not again."

"And I can't lose another Parker," May says, bleary eyed and bringing a hand to his cheek. "Not again."

Peter's chin wobbles as tears of his own threaten to spill again, and he lets them. He misses him so much and she does too. He misses his parents, he misses Julia, he misses everyone he's ever loved —

Why does everyone he's ever loved have to be taken from him?

May wraps him in his arms and he buries his face into her shoulder. She strokes his hair and rubs circles on his back and it helps a little, knowing she'll always be there for him, but it won't bring them back. They're never coming back.

But Julia —

Julia still could.

Peter pulls back, drying his eyes with the back of his sleeve, as May pushes his hair back, tucking some loose curls behind his ears.

"It's not your fault, Peter. Bad things happen for good reasons. You shouldn't have to worry about these things."

"I shouldn't," he agrees, "but I do. I have to. Who else is gonna look out for the little guy?" He chuckles, sniffling back his tears. He pulls at the ends of his sleeves as May looks around the apartment, and he waits for her to say something —

Anything —

"It's dangerous," she says, and Peter's heart falls.

He should have known she wouldn't be okay with his powers —

"But it's more dangerous without you."

Peter lifts his head back to her.

"Oh, don't look at me like that, I am so beyond ticked at you right now," she chides, moving to the couch and taking a seat. " _We_ don't keep secrets. We keep secrets from everyone else. Not each other. So, you're grounded, and I'm gonna hold onto this until I can wrap my head around this whole thing. Deal?"

Peter looks at the mask in her hand, disbelieving this is actually happening. "You're not… gonna tell anyone?" He asks, slowly sitting down on the coffee table.

"I am not gonna tell anyone your super secret because it's _our_ super secret, okay?"

Peter nods. He doesn't think he'll need the suit, at least not now, not while Ned is still establishing Silvermane's patterns and frequent visitations. "Okay," he says. "Deal."

May stands from the couch then leans down and presses a kiss to his forehead. "Get outta here. Get some sleep." She taps his shoulder with the mask as she walks out of the room and Peter laughs to himself in disbelief that this is happening. He's just relieved he doesn't have to hide it from her anymore.

He stands to go to bed but pauses as he senses something coming —

The room plunges into darkness, the lights flickering as an energy surge travels through the apartment, then levels out and returns to normal.

"I told you to go to bed!" May calls out with a laugh. "Stop messing with the lights!"

This wasn't him —

This was something else —

(Rock On Energy?)

(is that what it was called?)

Peter moves to the window to see if it's happening anywhere else and watches the power outage roll across the city like a wave, buildings flickering off and on, until it rolls out of sight.

"M-my bad!" Peter shouts back. "I'm — I'm going right now!"

He turns away from the window, heads into his room, and closes the door behind him. Whatever it was, he can't get into it with May now. He slides open his window and leans out the edge. It's bitter cold and the streets are relatively quiet, but the city is different. Darker.

Julia's eyes appear in the recess of Peter's memory and he thinks of her out there.

(Julia — )

Mr. Thompson said she was different.

(just — )

What kind of different?

(stay alive —)

She can't be bad.

(stay alive and get through it —)

Different doesn't mean bad.

"Stay alive."

* * *

{ Julia}

Julia stands frozen.

He's alive —

He's alive and he's here —

"Stephen?" She breathes, pulling off her mask for a better look. He shifts, trying to sit up but it causes more pain and he cries out, slumping farther down along the floor.

Julia eagerly webs the locking mechanism on the door and pulls, ripping the door off its hinges, and tosses it to the side. She rushes into the cell and kneels beside Stephen, propping him upright and and taking his face in her hands. "Stephen, look at me," she says, studying his pupils for reaction times. "You with me? Do you know your name? Do you know where you are? How long have you been here?"

"Stephen, no, same as you."

Julia lets go of him and rolls her eyes. "Alright, well, you're fine."

He rasps a laugh, leaning his head back against the wall and gasping for breath. She turns on her inhibitor, ignoring the pinprick of pain, and silences the thoughts streaming in from him. Thoughts and pictures she doesn't understand and would rather have explained —

She hears footsteps approaching —

Julia jumps to her feet, whipping around and facing Lonnie's pale figure in the doorway. The door must have triggered an alarm. She didn't even think. She's glad it's Lonnie though. He stands still, glaring at her then Stephen.

"I know," she starts, "I know I'm not supposed to be here but, Lonnie, you have to help me." His gaze shifts to her and she steps closer to him. "Why is Stephen here? What have they done to him?"

Lonnie stares at Stephen.

Frustration rushes through Julia —

She doesn't have time for this —

"Hey!" She snaps her fingers at Lonnie. "Look at me! What does Silvio want from him?"

Lonnie stares at Stephen.

Julia groans, anger pumping her veins —

"Lonnie, I swear if you don't talk me, I will out that you helped me escape, that you helped me protect Spider-Man. Now, what do they want from Stephen?"

"His brain."

Julia's brow furrows. "What does that mean?" She turns to look at Stephen. "They don't need your brain, they have Simon for his skills. He's the one who made the cure. I mean, I saw the production lines, they were making the cure, but it wasn't the cure, it wasn't ISO-36, it wasn't yellow, it — "

"Was blue?" Stephen finishes.

Julia looks at him, his light blue eyes reminding her of the pale blue liquid she swirled around in a flask, the same liquid Simon injected into those soldiers —

She nods.

"It's not ISO-36," he explains. "It's ISO-37."

A pit forms in Julia's stomach. She knows she originally wanted her mom back and that would require another serum, she just —

Didn't think it would be so soon.

"How?" She asks. "I thought all of it was destroyed."

"They thought so too. Until they were in the hospital and saw the vial I gave you. I figured you would use it on your mother but they captured me, _paused_ time, beat its location out of me…"

Julia shudders —

He gave her up —

"They needed it to recreate the cure, it was on your person when they brought you here, I'm so sorry, Julia."

Julia shakes her head —

(how — )

(how could he — )

"Stephen, you're stronger than that," she says, willing her voice to not break. "Why? Why did you help them?"

"Why are you?" He says. And there's a challenge behind his words and a fire in his eyes she immediately recognizes. She thinks of all the people they love. She thinks of Peter and Aunt Christine and her father and Tony and —

Even herself.

Julia kneels in front of him. "I won't let you do this."

"Julia," he sighs.

"Look what they've done to you? I won't let you stay locked up, not for me." She pushes herself to her feet, ignoring his protests, and turns to Lonnie, saying, "We have to get him out of here."

" _We_ aren't doing anything," he growls.

"Fine! Then just help me get him — "

Julia jumps back as Simon emerges from the hall.

"Julia, Julia, Julia," he sighs, sauntering into the white room. Lonnie stands frozen. Simon claps him on the shoulder as if appreciating he got to the disturbance first. "I warned you not to go poking around in things you don't belong."

"He doesn't belong to you," Julia fires back, her stance shielding Stephen behind her. "And neither do I."

"Of course, you do," he chuckles, aimlessly wandering further into the room. "You all do. If you want that boy to stay alive. Or your father… Or May… Stark… the nurse…"

"You're not gonna kill them. If you did, you'll have lost your leverage."

Simon's eyes narrow as he exhales a breath, impressed. "You are good."

And in one swift motion, he pulls out the injection device, tilts Stephen's head —

"No!"

Julia steps forward —

But he's already delivers the serum into his neck.

Simon rests the injection gun on his shoulder and smiles at her. "I'm just better."

The cure —

The serum —

The same the soldiers had —

Right before they died —

It's in him.

Simon steps around Stephen cringing at the pain in his neck —

(Julia's grateful her inhibitor is on, she couldn't bear to feel his pain — )

"You saw what happened earlier," Simon purrs, walking up to her.

Julia clenches her jaw.

"Don't make that your friend. You already have blood on your hands."

Julia refuses to show any emotion and looks at him with a blank stare. "So you know."

"That you defied orders? Escaped containment? Protected the enemy?!"

If Julia didn't know he hated her, she might have thought he sounds proud.

"I know. I'd just hate for Silvio to know." Simon lifts the syringe to Lonnie's neck and pulls the trigger. The large man drops to his knees beside her and clutches his neck.

"Simon, stop this!" Julia yells.

"Oh, I'm not doing anything," he laughs. "You're doing this to yourself. Actions have consequences. I just don't want to know what consequence Silvio would deal you if he knew of your actions. I wonder if he'd still care for you if he knew you used your gifts against his family, _our_ family. That you had them die to cover for you."

Julia swallows thickly, her gaze shifting to the floor, to disheveled Stephen slumped against the wall, to Lonnie on his knees —

They could die at any time —

They could fire the Juvenator and they'd be dead and it's all her fault.

"If I were you," Simon whispers, "I would back off and get back in line or you will watch everyone you love die for nothing. All because of you."

Julia clenches her jaw tighter to keep her lips from trembling.

Simon waves goodbye. "Sweet dreams."

Lonnie stands from the floor, grips her arm, and escorts her out of the cell to her room but she could be floating for all she knows. He could be dragging her down the hall and she wouldn't object because —

No one needs to die.

No one has to die.

If only she complies.

And compliance will be rewarded.


	5. Chapter 5

{ Julia }

"Intruder alert… Intruder alert."

Julia rips the cold vials from the shelves and shoves them into the containment carrier as fast as she can. She hears the guards' thoughts despite the incessant alarm blaring in her ears.

 _West corridor —_

 _I'm gonna get this bastard —_

 _One more hall —_

Julia empties that cabinet and moves to the next one, scanning the chemicals for the vials she was tasked to retrieve, and punches through the glass doors.

" _10-73, Arachne,"_ Control voices into her ear.

" _Julia,"_ Simon sings, the line transferring to him, _"what's going on?"_

"Uh, they sort of caught me," she says, emptying the tray of vials into the drone hovering next to her. "That bypass Val set me up with clearly didn't work."

" _I'll talk to his team. Just get it done."_

"What do you think I've been doing?" She swipes the rest of the contents into the drone's compartment, punches in the coordinates, and runs from the lab. The schematics on her display show the drone flying back to the compound as well as her exit route.

She heads toward the east corner of the building, swinging herself over a mess of tables and tucking and rolling into a sprint down the hall. She passes the reception desk on her way and displayed on a wall in great big letters, she reads the company name, _Roxxon Energy_.

Roxxon.

She knows that name.

How does she know that name?

Julia's senses surge —

Screaming at her to look out —

 _I've got you now —_

She jumps —

And a gun fires —

And she flips backwards —

Landing and dropping to the floor, she kicks out the legs from under the guard, and races for the exit. Another guard appears and Julia shoots a web, pulling herself up and over, kicking the weapon from his hands, and swings down the hall. She webs another guard emerging from an adjoining corridor and flips to the floor as the exit approaches. The stairwell door lies a few yards ahead and —

 _There you are, you little —_

Julia reels back, flipping away, as a security guard lunges and slams into the wall. She can't help but laugh as he falls down, stunned by his failed attempt to catch her.

"Invisible banana peel?" She jests. "Happens to the best of us."

" _Quit screwing around, Julia. Get out of there."_

"10-4," she chuckles, stepping around the man and hurrying toward the exit. She doesn't know why the only stairs in this building are in the farthest corner (which is so not good for fire rescue access) away from her but she's almost —

A body slams into her —

And she flies into the glass wall —

And crashing through the glazing —

And the man is clinging onto her —

And they're falling falling falling

And a rooftop is in her face —

And she tumbles across the lower roof, scuffing along the snow that does nothing to soften the impact —

And pain rips through her side like fire —

And she can't breathe —

She can't breathe —

She —

She rolls onto her back and —

A glass shard protrudes from her stomach.

Julia forces her motionless chest to inhale a small breath. And then another. And another until she's breathing somewhat steadily. Her gloved-fingers twitch with the need to remove the glass, streaked with blood, but she could do more harm than good. But she can't move with this inside her, not like this, not while the guard —

The guard is moving. He's moving and getting up and he's raising his gun —

And she can't move but she can't stay —

Julia winces as she raises her hand, a muffled cry escaping her lips, fires a web around the man's feet and pulls. He falls to his face —

And Julia pulls the shard from her stomach —

And a gunshot rings out —

And she rolls onto her side, yelping as pain shoots through her leg —

She glances at her thigh. The bullet ripped through her suit and grazed her skin. Julia pushes herself up onto her feet, gritting her teeth in an attempt to control the stabbing pain as she hobbles away into the night.

"10-73 Commission Control?" She huffs into her receiver.

" _10-4, Arachne."_

"11-41." Julia lowers herself onto the roof ledge, clutching her side to contain the bleeding, and carefully brings her legs over the ridge.

" _10-9?"_ The woman skeptically asks, wanting her to repeat the message.

"11-41! ASAP!" Julia knows she shouldn't bark orders at the only people willing to help her —

" _11-10 on the payload?"_

"Secure! Now do you read me or not?!" But she can't resist when she has a gaping hole in her stomach.

" _10-4,"_ the woman finally responds. _"What's your 45?"_

Julia looks down at her side, throbbing like a second heartbeat. Red drips from her black gloved hand and she watches as a few drops land on the white snow. "Critical."

" _11-79 in pursuit. 10-49: Rendezvous."_

"10-23," Julia grumbles, pushing herself to her feet. She wavers forward and, she doesn't want to but, she raises a hand, fires a web, and swings herself across the alley. Stabbing pain shoots through her side and she cries out, releasing her hold on the web, and falls to the rough surface. A groan passes her lips as searing pain spreading to the rest of her.

Sirens blare as police cars bolt down the street, officers hurrying towards the laboratory —

 _It's the vigilante terrorizing the city, I know it —_

 _They'll have cameras —_

 _We can prove it this time —_

 _Vigilante —_

 _Dangerous —_

 _Criminal —_

Anger explodes within Julia —

And all she sees is red.

Red as dark and thick as the blood seeping from her stomach.

She is not terrorizing New York.

She is helping it.

Even if can't see it yet.

Julia pushes herself up and the already dark world fades a degree or two but she has to get away, she has to get to the rendezvous location then the Commission can help her but she has to get there.

She's made it this far.

Julia swings across the street, down avenues, clutching onto her bloodied side, and —

It's getting harder to see.

The edges of her vision grow dimmer —

The night sky grows darker —

She just wants to sleep —

Sleep —

How peaceful to sleep —

The web slips from her hands —

Julia jolts awake —

And a rooftop hurtles toward her —

She fires a web to slow herself and manages to skid along the surface and she's clutching her side and —

And she's in Peter's neighborhood. She looks around the snowy buildings at the apartments tucked in tight quarters and markets on every street corner and the freeways driving through the middle of it all. Peter's building sits just across the way and a light shines through his curtained window.

Julia limps to the edge, drawn to the light like a glimmer of hope at even just the possibility of seeing him. If she could just seem him, see him for herself —

She stops. Hesitancy creeps up her spine, unsure if she even wants to see him.

A shadow crosses the ceiling in Peter's room and Julia's stomach jolts and it's not because she was stabbed.

The curtains are pushed back and suddenly Peter stands there, throwing the window open, and gasping for air between laughs. He waves his hand in front of his nose, looking over his shoulder, and Julia watches as Ned steps into view, the two boys laughing over one of Ned's infamous farts.

Julia can't help but laugh herself, and Peter's smile makes her feel just a little better. Like she could stay here forever on this snowy rooftop in this seemingly terrible moment because for just a moment, just for a smile, everything is all right. Even though it's freezing and she's freezing and she's shaking at the cold or maybe it's the pain in her side and it's so dark but it's so nice but she can't stay. She can't stay despite everything in her wanting to, she can't.

He left her. He stopped looking for her, he's laughing his head off with Ned, he doesn't care about her meanwhile Simon and Silvio are sending a team to rescue her, she has to go.

She has to.

Julia's heart aches but she tears herself away from the edge and slings herself from the rooftop and his neighborhood and this moment into the welcoming darkness of night.

* * *

{ Peter }

Ned's voice fades in his ears as Peter senses something — someone — watching them. And it's not the usual suspects he already knows about. It's someone else. It's…

Different.

(dangerous?)

Peter turns to the opened window and peers into the darkness across the street.

(no — )

"What is it?" Ned asks.

Peter narrows his eyes at a section of roof. A figure darts from the shadows, staggering into a sprint, and Peter's stomach tightens.

"It's her," he says. Peter hurries to his bed and rummages through his backpack for his web-shooters.

"W-what?" Ned asks. "H-how do you know?"

"I just do!" He exclaims, pulling open his drawers, sifting through his cluttered desk. "Ahah!" He finds them, slaps them onto his wrist, and hurtles himself out the window.

"What if it's not?!" Ned yells behind him. "You don't have your suit!" His voice echoes off the buildings as Peter fires two webs across the street and pulls himself forward, hurtling across the massive drop.

"I don't have a brain either but it's fine!" He shouts back, and he knows he's disappeared from his friend's view. Peter chases Julia frantically across the rooftop. He doesn't dare call out her name so he pushes himself harder to catch up to her. She's faster than him now but he doesn't remember her being that way, not that it matters.

The wind burns his eyes and his cheeks sting at the biting cold but he follows her, moving like a shadow, snow crunching beneath his feet as he races forward, and he catches a glimpse of her before she slips around a mechanical screen and —

A fist hits him square in the chest —

And Peter's grunts, the breath knocked from his lungs —

And he falls to the ground. He quickly gets his hands up under him —

And a gun cocks over him and a boot drives his face into the wet snow. Fear thuds through his veins and he doesn't move.

"Stay down, kid," a man growls.

Peter breathes into the frigid blanket.

A whirring roar emerges across the dark sky and suddenly there's light. Peter tilts his head up beneath his oppressor's foot and a helicopter hovers at the edge of the roof right in front of them —

Blades chopping through the air, deafening and clamorous, like standing in the middle of a thunderstorm, and the wind kicks up some of the snow and Peter closes his eyes only to squint through the light beaming down and he can't see, he can't see Julia —

"Get her on board!" A voice shouts over the wind.

Peter tilts his head just a little more and sees Simon sitting in the helicopter and half a dozen soldiers prowling along the roof in a blur of snow toward the figure —

And he sees her.

He sees _her._

"Julia," he breathes.

She's hunched over in pain and her hair is blowing in every direction and she wears a black suit like his, like Spider-Man's, and it's _her —_

It's her, it's really her —

And Simon sits in the helicopter, reaching for her, and she's reaching for him and —

"Julia!" Peter shouts.

She stops.

She stops reaching for Simon.

Peter's chest lurches —

She hears him —

(she always hears him — )

"Julia, it's me!" He yells over the howling wind. "It's me! It's Peter!"

"Shut up!" The gunman screams at him, but Peter doesn't flinch or move or stop or dare look away from her because she's here, she's real, he found her (well, technically she found him), and she's okay, she's alive, she's —

Julia turns to Peter for the briefest of moments, peering over her shoulder at him from the corner of her eye —

(c'mon, c'mon — )

(see me — )

(look at me — )

(Julia — )

(please — )

But she's different like Mr. Thompson said —

And Simon's different too, he wears a patch over one of his eyes (what happened to him?), and he leans out of the helicopter and yells something to her and she's turning like she's going to accept his outstretched hand —

"No!" Peter screams.

She's gonna go with him —

She's going with him —

She's climbing into the helicopter, the soldiers helping her inside as she clutches her side, and Peter's looking at her and urging her to stop, to turn around, to leave, _to stay_ , but she goes with him —

She goes with him and his heart shatters.

"Julia!" Peter screams, his voice roaring in his chest, tearing at his throat, and his face and body are numb from the cold and another wave of snow drifts in the wind, pouring onto him as the helicopter whirs away from the roof and into the night.

"She's gone, kid," the man taunts. "And so are you."

"So are the rest of your buddies," Peter comments to the lone soldier. He feels the gun chamber pressed against his skull, the man's shoe sliding off his head, and Peter takes a breath to steady the adrenaline building inside him. "You know, you might not want to do that," he warns, his muscles tensing for a fight.

The man laughs. "And why's that?"

"You don't wanna put the gun right up against someone because it makes it real easy to do this." Peter spins onto his back while grabbing the gun, kicks the man between his legs with everything he has, and flips onto his feet. The man stands unmoving, clutching his groin, and Peter webs the soldier's hands to him. He gives a yelp of pain at the impact then falls to his knees, face-planting into the snow.

Peter walks forward, tossing the gun to the side, and pats the man on the back. "I know, buddy. I'm sorry."

Peter looks to the horizon and sees the flashing blip of the helicopter disappear into the grey stretch of sky. He moves to the edge of the building and crouches down along the corner, watching them take her, take her from him _again_ and every part of him, every instinct screams at him to follow them back to their base, to find out what they did to her and why —

Why she trusts Simon more than him.

(Julia — )

(why did you go with him?)

Peter looks behind him to the water tower above his apartment marked with her artwork. He knows why she left, and why she put her trust in Simon.

The red and blue spider still shines clear and bright in the sky amid the white flurries drifting down. But he is not this city's protector. Not if he can't protect his people. _All_ of his people.

Julia believed in him. She painted his symbol above the streets of Queens like a beacon of hope for all to see. She put her trust in him and he failed her.

He remembers the day they were up here like it was yesterday. How excited she was to paint with him, how they brainstormed what to create, how he held her close to keep her from shouting his secret to the world…

How he left her.

He left her to help someone else.

And in the end, he exposed his own secret to keep her alive, and he would do it again in a heartbeat if it meant she were safe.

Peter sighs deeply.

"Stay alive," he mutters. "Just stay alive and get through it."

And he's not sure if he's saying this for her —

Or for himself.

* * *

{ Julia }

He was there.

He was there and he was staring at her with these eyes —

Helpless and afraid —

And he —

He came for her.

" _Julia…"_

Her name passed his lips as gentle as a dove and as faint as a breeze.

 _C'mon, c'mon…_

He wanted her to stay _._

 _See me._

(let me see you — )

 _Look at me._

(tell me you can see me, too — )

(let it be enough to make you stay — )

 _Julia…_

Peter —

 _Please._

It's not enough —

Julia turns on her inhibitor. The mechanism powers up with a soft whir and a fleeting stab of pain in her neck, but her mind quiets to thoughts of her own. She can't keep reliving the memory. She can't hear him anymore nor does she want to. She had to leave. There's nothing to it. It wasn't enough.

(but a pit roils in her stomach — )

(it hasn't left —)

(not since she left him on the roof — )

Julia blinks a few times, her senses returning to the current moment.

The compound.

The medical bay.

The pain in her side.

The doctor talking away.

"What did you just say?" She asks, turning to Doctor Connors.

He glances at her over the rim of his glasses, balancing precariously on the edge of his nose, and continues stitching her wound. "Well, the moment you were stabbed, your body was already working to repair the damage," he explains. "If your cells weren't regenerative, this could have gone a very different direction. You were lucky, Julia."

"You were cocky," Simon spits.

Julia slides her eyes over to him standing at the back of the room. "Interesting that when expressing pride, we refer to oneself as a male."

"Just admit that you screwed up!" He fires back, his chest puffing out.

"Wouldn't have to if your engineers hadn't given me a faulty override."

Simon's mouth twitches with rage. Julia smirks as the scowl etched into his what once might have even been a handsome face turns even darker and uglier, and it has little to do with the scars. "Watch it, Arach," he says, low. "Your buddies are on thin ice."

Julia clenches her jaw. She may deserve Simon's fury but Stephen and Lonnie don't. She inhales a deep breath, saying, "I'm…" And it takes everything she has to say this, "sorry."

Simon leans forward in a partial bow. "See? Was that so hard?"

Julia glowers at him, anger burning her insides. She can't wait to take his other eye.

The door opens with mechanical hiss and a soldier steps out of the way as Silvio waltzes inside, youthful and healthy (as if he didn't look like he was over a hundred years old a week ago).

"Doctor Marshall," he sings, clutching the hilt of his cane, "if I am not mistaken, I do believe you have a meeting with Val to discuss a faulty override key."

Julia glances at Simon. He stands at attention, rigid and professional, but even she doesn't need her powers to know he's rattled by Silvio's presence.

"Of course, sir. Excuse me." Simon exits the med bay without so much as a glare back at Julia and disappears down the hall.

"See?" Silvio mutters. "Was that so difficult?"

Julia laughs out loud, startling Doctor Connors, but her laughter turns to coughing and tears through her chest and racks her side —

"Don't go bursting at the seams," Doctor Connors chides. "I just put you back together." He stands from his stool, peeling off his blood-stained gloves, and Julia smiles a little, grateful for his help and his teasing.

"Julia," Silvio says, sliding onto the doctor's chair, "how are you feeling?"

"Sore." She looks him over. "But you look well," she says, knowing he's stolen the youth of seven men.

He inhales a deep breath as if relishing the freely flowing air. "I am feeling well, thank you," he replies. "Although, when I think about it, I truly do owe my thanks to you. You too, Curt."

The doctor chuckles to himself as he tidies up the space.

Julia raises a brow at Silvio.

"Some odd years ago," he explains, "I struck a deal with Doctor Connors here and he concocted a youth serum from the scribblings of an ancient clay tablet. It was quite impressive work and it worked for some time but again… Time… She makes a mockery of us all."

Julia studies him, lost in his thoughts, and wishes she hadn't turned on her inhibitor. She wishes she didn't have it at all. She's getting better at discerning thoughts. It doesn't scare her to hear the voices of others. She craves it.

"That's why I created another serum." Julia turns to Doctor Connors, stepping forward and drying his freshly washed hands. "And has much as I hate to admit it, Simon did most of the leg work; Creating ISO-36, experimenting on the water treatment facility, but this new formula…" His voice trails off, and the pale blue liquid Julia first examined when exploring the production lines flashes before her eyes. She held a glass vile, the power of life and death in her hands, and she doesn't even know the extent of its true nature.

"What does it do?" She asks, feigning innocence.

Doctor Connors peers at her then glances at Silvio.

"It will grant us all what we seek," the Italian assures, patting her on the hand. "You made a great sacrifice for us tonight, gathering those chemicals."

Julia looks down at her stomach. With her Arachne suit pulled down to her waist, she sees everything her brave new world has thrown at her. The place she was electrocuted and burned, replaced with Tony's cradle tech and removed by the Commission doctors, and now a stab wound in addition to the bullet that grazed her leg. "Apologies for the extraction," she feebly admits.

He chuckles. "Only for you, _giovanotta_ , would I sanction an extraction team."

She looks up at him.

"What? You think it was Simon who brought you home?" He laughs, bumping Julia's shoulder, and she smiles a little. She's grateful to have someone looking out for her unlike Simon who's just out to get her.

Doctor Connors rounds the edge of the bed and taps Julia's knee for her to stand. She swings her legs over and pushes herself to her feet with his help. Her side aches but it's minuscule compared to what it was before.

"Your compliance has been most rewarding to us," Silvio adds. "It is only fair we reward you."

Julia holds her hair up out of the way as Doctor Connors' grabs the upper half of her suit from around her waist and holds the sleeves out for her. "How has it rewarded you? My compliance," she asks Silvio, sliding her arms through the openings.

"You remember your first assignment for the Commission, _giovanotta?_ "

"The Juvenator, of course." She continues holding her hair out of the way as Doctor Connors zips her in.

"Well, after you retrieved it, we replaced the missing Arc Reactor with something much more powerful. Unfortunately, it is not as sophisticated. A power surge follows like a wave to the device but with the new serum, the effects are…" Silvio gestures to his new, youthful complexion. "Beyond its time," he beams.

Julia forces a grin. This isn't really what she had in mind when she agreed to steal the device. Especially the killing of other people to do it.

But he does look better.

And it does work.

"If only Spider-Man hadn't caught Adrian," Silvio says, deflated. Doctor Connors hands Julia her mask and she accepts it from him but only half-heartedly, her eyes and ears fixed intently on Silvio at the very mention of Peter. "He could have built and designed a hundred different Juvenators for us with no energy kickback at all. He had a brilliant mind and the spirit of a true entrepreneur."

Julia's grip tightens on her mask.

She remembers that name —

Adrian Toombs —

He was on the eleven o'clock news the night of homecoming —

The night Peter should have been with his friends —

And instead he was protecting them —

And no one knew.

Silvio's dreamlike gaze meets Julia's deathglare and he raises his hands in surrender and plasters on a somber expression. "But he did try to kill your boy."

Julia scoffs. "He's not mine," she says, and walks out of the med bay.

(then why am I offended Silvio admires the man who tried to kill him? )

(why is there a pit in my stomach since I saw him?)

(if he's not mine then — )

(why does it feel like part of me is missing?)

Julia moves down the corridor and shoves open the door to the production lines. It swings open hard and wide, smacking into the metal siding, and she storms forward, cold and uncaring. A soldier jumps out of her way but most avoid her gaze, keeping their eyes on their work of creating and packaging chemicals as fast as possible.

Julia paces the concrete floor, prowling like a caged animal waiting to be set free because —

She is waiting.

Waiting for this serum to be ready —

For her mother to return —

For someone to be with her —

To give a damn about her —

Her hands shake with rage.

And red —

Webs from from thin air —

And all she sees is red —

Weaving into tight cords —

And it flows through her so raw and so natural and so _hard_ —

The webs launch her from the floor, up into the air, and she flips backward onto Silvio's balcony. Her chest heaves with labored breaths. It's hard feeling this way, she doesn't want to feel this way —

But things change. And people do too.

Julia crouches along the edge and watches the workers below until they blur into moving dots.

The balcony door opens with a squeal, and Julia doesn't bother glancing over her shoulder to know Silvio approaches. "I am sorry, _giovanotta_. It hurts to lose what is already lost. But that doesn't mean someone can't be found."

Julia gets to her feet, tired of false hope, and asks, "How long until the serum launches?"

Silvio casts a glance at the warehouse clock. "Oh, five hours. They ship at first light."

She nods in approval, steadying herself and her spiraling mind, and watches the production lines. Silvio leans along the banister, lording over his empire, and Julia is right beside him.

"By mid-morning tomorrow, all of New York will be ours for the taking."

* * *

{ Peter }

Peter peers around the lofty entrance, with its staircases and upperlevels branching from the central hub. He's only ever been to the Avenger's Compound one time and even then he had Happy as a guide. The place is like a maze of silver and sophistication and looks totally different at night.

"Hey, uhm, Miss Friday?" He whispers into the empty corridor.

" _Peter?"_ Her bodiless, Irish accent answers. _"What brings you here this late at night?"_

Peter glances over his shoulder at the hallway that looks exactly the same as the last. "Do you know where Mr. Stark is?"

" _Mr. Stark is in the third floor Weapons Laboratory."_

Peter looks up the staircase to the higher floors. The walls become glass with a view of the grounds just outside, and a white light sparks from the end of the hall, bouncing along the glass with orange embers raining to the ground. "Huh," he says, and bounds up the steps two at a time toward the source of the sparks. "Thanks, Friday!"

" _You should know,"_ she adds, her voice travelling with him as he moves through the Compound, _"the boss won't take kindly to bein' disturbed!"_

Peter pushes open the glass door to the lab anyways.

Mr. Stark stands with his back to him at a holographic control panel: tapping controls, turning dials, enlarging diagrams and reconfiguring the wiring in the thrusters of his suit. A machine performs the work in real time, soldering wires and torching and welding pieces back together.

Peter knocks on the glass wall.

"That better be the Postmates I ordered." Mr. Stark glances over his shoulder and does a double take. He slowly turns around to face Peter, swallowing thickly at the stare coming his way.

"Hi," he says, not knowing what else to say.

"Mr. Parker," Tony says, slightly stunned. He moves toward him and shakes his hand. "This is a surprise."

Peter's knuckles burst in his firm grip, but he gladly accepts the civility despite how they left things last time. He takes a breath, opening his mouth to explain —

"Wait, what time is it?" Mr. Stark asks.

" _One in the mornin', boss."_

Mr. Stark gawks at Peter. "It's the middle of the night?!"

"You said your door was always open!" Peter yells, flinching away.

"You're coming here in the middle of the night — "

"Why are you getting mad?!"

"With no suit — "

"This is literally what you wanted!"

"You should be in bed, young man!"

"Yeah, and you should redistribute your wealth to the masses, especially the middle eastern countries you profited from when your weapons killed countess people, and yet, here we are!"

A quietness settles over the lab. Even the soldering bot has stopped welding and watches them with its nonexistent yet nervous eyes.

Mr. Stark removes his colored glasses. "Don't sass me." He steps forward and claps Peter on his shoulder, squeezing tightly. "It's good to see you, kid. It's been a while."

"Yeah," he laughs. "Yeah, that's m-my bad." Mr. Stark shakes his head a little and picks up his mug of coffee from his workstation. "But I — I come bearing gifts," Peter adds, jerking his thumb over his shoulder to the stairs.

"Why? It's not my birthday, is it?" He asks, taking a sip.

Peter chuckles nervously. "No. No, sir. Just — I — I really think you're gonna wanna see this — "

A ringtone erupts from Mr. Stark's desk and he quickly picks up an old flip phone and dismisses the call. "Sorry about that," he mutters, putting the phone on silent.

Peter remembers the burner phone Steve gave him. After everything that happened at the airport, he's never seen Mr. Stark without it. He must still care about Steve if he's always waiting for a call.

"Why don't you just talk to him?" Peter asks.

Mr. Stark smiles softly. "It's a tad more complicated than that," he says, his voice soft and quiet, and slips the phone into his pocket.

"I don't see how," Peter says. "I mean, you literally just — " Mr. Stark glares at him — "pick up the phone," he finishes with a laugh.

And even he can't hide the smile threatening its way across his face. "Why are you here?" Mr. Stark asks, gesturing to the lab with his coffee mug.

"Come with me." Peter excitedly leads him downstairs to a janitor's closet and a fleeting image of Julia face to face with him in the school closet crosses his mind. He usually pushes memories like that away but he's so close to finding her, he even saw her, he allows himself to think of her. Back when all of this started, when he told her his secret, when their were chest to chest, when he pressed his hand to her mouth and had no idea his lips would ever touch hers —

Peter throws opens the closet door to reveal the man he stuffed inside. He gestures to the perp proudly. "Tah dah!"

Mr. Stark stares at the body, brings his mug to his lips, and takes a sip of coffee. "So now you're bringing dead bodies into the joint?"

"He's not dead," Peter says. "At least, I don't think so," he adds, looking at the man. "I caught him after he tried to put a bullet in me."

Mr. Stark chokes on his drink. "He what?"

"Yeah, he pinned me down as his buddies took Julia — Hey, did you know helicopters can get super close to buildings without the difference in air pressure blowing out all the windows? I thought that always happened but maybe only in movies."

"Y-you saw Julia?! Wha — And you didn't open with _that_?!"

"Did I spill lipstick in your white Valentino bag too?" Peter rolls his eyes. "Yes, I saw her. And I think she's working for this guy's boss."

"You _think_?!"

He shrugs. "I don't know. That's why I need your help to find out."

But Mr. Stark is already shaking his head. "No way. Absolutely not."

"C'mon!" Peter begs.

"Need I remind you," he says, pointing to the unconscious man, "he just tried to kill you."

"But he didn't _want_ to," Peter emphasizes. "My senses act up under danger and he wasn't dangerous. The gun to my head, that was dangerous, but not him. He could have pulled that trigger any moment but he didn't."

"Why?"

"I got a kid brother your age." Both Peter and Mr. Stark look down at the man with wide eyes. "Twin girls at home, too," he adds.

Mr. Stark eyes him warily as he gets to his feet, placing a hand in front of Peter and guiding him backwards all the while still holding onto his coffee with the other. "Wife?" He questions.

The man stares at him, but he isn't cold. "They got to him," he gently corrects. "Ain't no way he takin' anybody else from me." He finally looks to Peter and his face is hard but his eyes are kind. "I'm sorry 'boutcha girl."

"What happened to her?" Peter asks, stepping toward him. He gestures for Tony to lower his barricade, and he does.

"She got hurt on an assignment," the man answers. "We went to pick her up."

"Yeah, until you _attacked_ him," Mr. Stark fumes.

"We had orders."

"Orders, shmorders. Who's callin' the shots?"

"Silvermane," Peter and the man say. They share a knowing look for their common enemy, and Peter feels Mr. Stark's gaze burning into him. "There's a lot I haven't told you," he says to him.

"Like what?" He growls.

"Like" — and Peter knows he's going to freak out when he says this — "May knows."

"She _what_?!"

Peter throws his hands in the air.

"And you wonder why I don't let you make decisions on your own! This is exactly why I don't let you make decisions on your own."

Peter sighs, hoping the rant is over as Mr. Stark turns to the stranger, asking, "What was the assignment she was on tonight?"

"Gather supplies for another shipment of ISO-37."

Peter furrows his brow. "I think you mean 36."

He shakes his head. "37. It's new. Hits the market tomorrow."

"Friday," Mr. Stark says, and a hologram screen appears along the wall. Friday completes a search, displaying relevant data, and the three move toward it, watching it work and produce a news article like magic.

"Science is cool," Peter chuckles.

"'Sapridyne Chemicals introduces new miracle drug to hospitals nationwide,'" Mr. Stark reads. "Friday, how is this not coming through my news feed?"

" _I'll add it, boss."_

"Thank you."

"Speaking of news…" Peter points to a news channel broadcasting a chemicals lab lit up like a Christmas tree. Red and blue police lights reflect off the glass building and Peter notes the jagged opening along the upper level.

"This the place she was stealing from?" Mr. Stark asks the stranger.

He nods. "Roxxon Energy. Biggest mass energy producer in the country."

"Wait, Silvermane's working with this company," Peter tells them. He racks his brain trying to remember what he learned with Ned. "Yeah, Roxxon's contracted as a subsidiary to him." Peter glances at Mr. Stark looking at him surprised. "Oh, Mr. Thompson had a flashdrive of information he compiled while he was sanctioned by the FBI to infiltrate Silvermane's inner ring" — Mr. Stark looks more impressed than surprised — "and he gave it to me," Peter finishes rather lamely, not used to pride being directed at him.

"So he's stealing from himself and writing it off as theft," Mr. Stark concludes, reviewing the hologram.

"How do you think the rich stay rich?" The man comments. "No offense."

Mr. Stark frowns. "None taken."

"But he did take some of your designs."

"Now I'm offended."

"He needed the Juvenator up and running."

"For what?"

"Oh," Peter draws out, realization dawning on him. "Oh, no."

Mr. Stark turns to him. "What?"

Peter places his hands on his cheeks as if he could cover his face and hide from his problems forever. "Oh, it's about to be the Walking Dead up in this beezy."

"Excuse me?"

Peter finally looks over at Mr. Stark and their new friend, and grasps the need to fill them in on all he's learned. "Simon Marshall developed this drug that could cure literally anything. His wife was sick, I think it was cancer and she died and it was this whole thing and it was super sad because he couldn't save her, not really, not until a machine could be used to activate the drug inside of her but he couldn't build it until you showed up — Fast forward, here you are, fancy tech, boom, deadly cure and killer machine."

Mr. Stark stares at him blankly then shakes his head. "I don't follow."

"Silvermane? The old guy from the hospital? The guy behind all of this?" He questions. "He needs ISO-37 to be distributed nation-wide because we're not just talking about turning back the clock a few years to keep himself young like he's been doing. We're talking about bringing people back from the dead. And that's gonna take a whole lot of molecular energy, energy that has to be siphoned from living, breathing people."

"Simon wants to bring his wife back," the stranger realizes.

"And I'd bet dollars to donuts Silvermane wants to bring back someone too," Mr. Stark says.

Peter thinks of Julia. Her mom just died. She's been gone for a while but now it's official and —

Of course —

Of course, that's why she went with Simon.

They've promised her her mother.

(but Julia — )

(do you know the cost?)

(Julia — )

(would you kill to save a life?)

"We all got somebody we wanna bring back," the stranger says. "But we don't get to play God. And when this gets out, which it will, people will pay way too much to bring somebody back and send somebody else to their grave."

Something heavy slides down Peter's throat and lands in his stomach.

Mr. Stark sighs. "It's always about money," he grumbles, tapping on the hologram. "This drug, you mass-producing it? Where?"

"Warehouse district on 49th," the man answers.

"You mean the one next to old Hammer Industries? Oh, that is poetic."

The man moves to stand with Mr. Stark, pulling up a map of the area to review the compound's location, but Peter has to ask —

"The girl," he says, pulling him aside and the stranger gives him his full attention, "the one who was hurt?" He nods, and Peter's almost too afraid to ask but then he thinks of her and how afraid she must be in all this and it makes him a little braver. "What did Silvermane do to her?"

The man lets out a deep sigh. "I don't know… But she scares the holy hell out of me."

Peter deflates a little. He was afraid of that.

"Yep, that's feisty pants," Mr. Stark comments. Peter smiles a little knowing he's trying to cheer him up, and agrees that does sound like her. He just wonders how much is still her.

"Will she be there?" He asks.

"If you're going to stop this whole thing, yeah, she'll be there. But they'll use her to stop you, so… Be ready."

Peter exhales a shaky laugh. "Sir, I've been ready for a long time."

"Sir?" He repeats with a grin. "Damn boy, you make me feel old. The name's Dimitri." He holds out his hand and Peter gladly shakes it. "It's good to meet you, Spider-Man."

"Ditto," he chuckles.

"You too, Iron Man," Dimitri says, holding his hand out to Mr. Stark.

"Tony," he says, shaking his hand. "Appreciate the help. We'll take it from here."

"All do respect, but I'd like to help. This is my fight too. Besides, you're gonna need a guide through the compound."

Peter looks up at Mr. Stark pondering for a moment. "Side bar," he announces, and pulls Peter under his arm and steps a few paces away.

"Well, what are you thinking?" He asks.

Mr. Stark scrunches his nose. "I don't know, I'm just making it look like we're considering our options. Of course, we're taking him." Peter nods absently. "Hey, nice instincts trusting him!" He adds, fistbumping Peter's shoulder and jostling a smile out of him. "You didn't need my help at all piecing this together — I'm proud of you!"

Peter beams. He doesn't know what to say. He couldn't imagine doing any of this without Mr. Stark.

"What are _you_ thinking?" The Avenger asks. "Wait, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking Julia's in trouble."

"And you're thinking we have to stop a shipment of death drugs from infecting the population," Peter challenges.

"Save the girl?"

"And the day?"

Mr. Stark grins at him. "Suit up, kid."


	6. Chapter 6

{ Peter }

Peter flips through the air.

"Whoo-hoo!" He howls, thwiping out a web and swinging down the avenue. He sweeps low above the rushing traffic then launches himself into the night sky.

He closes his eyes — weightless and free — and inhales deeply.

Crisp air fills his lungs, but the air is different. An energy buzzes within it, an excitement, like New York knows what's about to happen and holds her breath with anticipation.

Her Julia is about to come home.

Peter exhales the overdrawn breath, shoots another web onto a skyscraper, and swings down the street.

This is it —

It's finally happening —

Julia is coming home.

" _You realize if she's working for this guy willingly, she might not come willingly,"_ Mr. Stark voices over the comms.

"I know her," Peter says, sweeping low. He shoots a web onto the upper face of a building and hurtles up toward the roof. "She will."

(he's not leaving without her — )

" _But if she doesn't — "_

"Then that's her choice." Peter runs along the parapet and pauses at the corner, watching Dimitri and his motorcycle weave through cars below. Their new ally turns down the avenue and continues leading them to the base.

"But I have to try."

Peter dives off the roof, shooting a web, and swings after him. Mr. Stark flies farther back, bringing up the rear. They can't risk him being a part of this, his suit makes too much noise, it would draw too much attention, so, Peter goes it alone. For now at least.

He sticks to the plan and follows Dimitri to a set of square buildings amid an abandoned construction site. Unfinished concrete pillars with rebar sticking out support a steel structure and a wrought iron fence surrounds the compound, and it looks like —

It looks like a prison.

Peter lands softly on a nearby roof and perches at the edge, staring at the compound. "Julia's been living here?"

" _Maybe the inside's more Ritz and less Motel 6. Stay on target,"_ Mr. Stark chides.

"Right," Peter sighs. He watches from above as the compound gate slides open and Dimitri rides within its walls. A group of soldiers in black uniforms gather ahead of him as he rolls to a stop.

"Ay yo, Dimitri, where the hell you been? Yous 'posed to radio in."

"Showtime," Peter whispers. He jumps, pulling himself onto the steel structure, and crouches along the narrow beam.

Dimitri dismounts the motorcycle and Peter moves closer to an unsuspecting soldier at the back of the group. He fires a web, silently lifting them from the ground, rolls them up in a bundle of webs, and hangs the cocoon from the beam.

"What in the hell happened to you?" A soldier asks. "Where'd you ditch the body?"

"Yeah, about that..." Dimitri trails off, rubbing the back of his head like he was hit.

Peter spots a patrol guard at the top of a rebar cage and flings himself across to the far side, flipping into a kick, and knocks out the soldier.

"C'mon, man. You know what he gon' do if we don't deliver."

Peter leaps to a beam, plucks another patrol from the ground, and leaves the soldier dangling from the beam undetected.

"Maybe the kid'll come in handy," another says. "You know she likes him."

"Who? Arachne?"

Peter freezes.

Arachne —

Vigilante attack —

Julia —

Stealth suit —

He did something to her —

She's different —

Dangerous?

(no — )

"I think you mean Silvermane's pet."

Peter's insides heat up. The way they talk about her —

Like she's a pawn —

A mundane soldier like them —

She is nothing like them.

"Man, I wish she'd like me."

Peter's blood boils.

" _Steady, Parker,"_ Mr. Stark reminds.

He takes a breath and focuses on reeling in his anger.

"You seen her in that fit?"

"Tight little — "

" _Dimitri, get them off topic."_

"What I wouldn't give to — "

But it doesn't work.

Peter leaps —

" _Parker!"_

He fires a web, pulling himself to the ground, and knocks the soldier down flat. He flips backward, sensing an assailant and slides back between their legs, and kicks them away.

" _Well, there goes our element of surprise…"_

Peter ignores Mr. Stark. He strikes the next soldier, leaping and swinging into a kick, and punches them to the asphalt. He keeps fighting, not bothering to wait for the Avenger. Not bothering to continue with the plan.

He's getting to Julia, and he'll take down anyone in his way to do it.

* * *

{ Julia }

Forklifts loads pallets of ISO-37 into the semi-trucks backed into the warehouse. The production lines are a mess of organized chaos as they package and box the last batch. Simon barks orders at the workers over the whir of overworked machines moving them faster than ever and even works with them alongside them. Lonnie, Hammerhead, Val — every able bodied soldier helps get this serum out into the world. The sooner they're out, the sooner they'll be whole again.

(the sooner she'll be whole again — )

But there's something else — someone else — creeping in at the edge of her senses.

Julia slowly steps away from the edge of Silvio's balcony and approaches the bay of windows overlooking the grounds outside. She slides a finger over her Inhibitor, flinching at the pain in her neck, and listens to the stream of thoughts flooding her brain.

" _Giovanotta?_ " Silvio says. "Are you all right?"

Julia strains her ears through the web of voices.

"Yeah, I was just…"

She heard —

She thought she heard —

"You're not having second thoughts, are you?" Silvio asks.

Julia swallows thickly. The hole in her gut, that feeling she had on the roof, the one that hasn't left —

It burns.

Ten times worse —

Ten times as strong —

And she hears —

She hears him.

Him.

Peter.

But he's not really thinking so much as he's burning.

He burns with rage and red and he's furious —

"Sir. We have a perimeter breach."

And he's not alone.

 _I'm comin' for ya, kid. Hang on._

Julia burns white-hot. And it has nothing to do with Peter's anger. It comes from deep within her.

(no — )

(this can't be happening — )

(not after everything — )

"Julia?" Silvio says, worry lacing his voice. "Julia, what is it?"

Julia finally snaps out of her reverie and looks over at him, anger boiling her blood. And without having to say a word, Silvio knows.

He breathes deeply.

"Stark…"

She nods.

"I'm receiving two unidentified heat signatures at the northeast gate — "

Julia storms past the control booth spewing information, past Silvio, past all the bullshit she's been through to get to this moment, and leaps off the balcony. She swings down to the partially loaded semi's, webs the massive door and pulls, slamming it shut.

"Latch these up," she orders. "I want these gone. Now." She moves onto the next one as a soldier steps forward and seals the truck. She webs the next door shut and the next.

"Arach, what are you doing?" Simon demands, barreling from the production lines over to her. "These orders aren't filled yet."

Julia grabs Simon by his kevlar vest, resisting the urge to create webs around his throat. "And if we don't get what we have out right now, everything will have been for nothing," she seethes. "Nothing."

Simon gently removes her grasp from him, saying, "Why don't you worry about your job and I'll worry about mine?" He waves a hand, motioning for the trucks to roll out.

Julia looks at him curiously.

"Like I said: You worry about your job. I'll keep things going here." He smiles a little. That twisted, scarred, marred, eye-missing smile she once hated so much and now it's reassuring.

At least someone has her back.

And Julia…

Julia can't help her own smile creeping onto her face.

* * *

{ Peter }

" _They upped the time table,"_ Dimitri announces.

Peter lands from a backflip and punches the assailant away from him. "What?!"

" _First shipment's already rolling."_

He looks to the warehouse and the trucks pulling away from the distribution area one after the other.

"Oh, no…"

" _Not for long,"_ Mr. Stark chimes in over the comms. _"Kid, we only wanna take out the serums, not the drivers, we clear?"_

"Crystal!" Peter fires two webs and pulls, launching himself toward the trucks. He fires a web on the hull, swings down and kicks through the glass, pushing the driver out through the other window. Quickly snatching the man, Peter webs him to a shipping container and swings out of the way as the truck veers off the road.

Mr. Stark flies overhead. Detonators release from a dropchute in his suit, landing on the payload, and blast the serums to nothing.

"Oh, nice shot!" Peter exclaims, watching the fiery explosion. The heat wave warms his entire body and he's cold again as he swings past the blast site to the next truck.

" _You like that?"_ Mr. Stark gloats. _"Stole it from Rhodey."_

" _Yeah, yeah, less chatty, more fighty, alright?"_

" _Buzzkill!"_ Mr. Stark retorts back to Dimitri.

Peter unfastens the driver's seatbelt, yanks him from the cab, and webs him to the fence with the others. Peter pulls himself up a safe distance onto the steel structure, and Karen magnifies the view on his display to show their ally beating back the ground forces. He handles the S.H.I.E.L.D. issued gun well, the Icer whirring with a charge after each blast, and Dimitri doesn't hesitate to stun his comrades. But he'll be overwhelmed soon. They've been out here too long already; They need to get inside the building.

The jarring crunching of metal fills the air, and Peter flinches at the sound, quickly turning to see its cause. Mr. Stark pushes what's left of the trucks into a pile — a barricade — and blocks the road out of the base.

" _Parker, bring that one over,"_ he instructs. _"We gotta stop them from leaving."_

Peter looks to the distribution center where fifteen other trucks wait in the loading dock.

"Oh, shit," he exhales.

" _What did you just say?"_

And a truck pulls away from the facility.

And another —

And another —

"Oh, shit!"

Peter springs into action. He swings to the first truck in the procession, crawls along the side, and rips off the door.

"Hi!"

The driver instantly reaches for the gun on his hip and Peter thrusts a kick to his chest, knocking him over, but the man grabs onto him.

" _Parker!"_

Peter yelps as he's dragged into the cab. His legs hit the dash, his head hits the steering wheel, and his arms are held down by the driver.

"Little busy here, Mr. Stark," he groans.

The driver clambers on top of him and Peter fights to break free, looking for anything he can use, and notices a cinder block on the gas propelling the truck forward. He grabs it and knocks the driver back with it. Peter webs the passenger door open, grabs the man, and rushes out of the truck just before the crushing of metal fills the air.

The truck crashes into the barricade and Mr. Stark immediately destroys the payload.

"Still need my help?" Peter huffs, pushing himself to his feet.

The Avenger shrugs. _"Your mission, your call."_

"Oh. Cool. Then… Let's go." Peter takes off running and swings to the trucks fast approaching. Mr. Stark flies behind, dropping charges as fast as Peter swings through the cab of each truck, pulling out drivers, and webbing them a safe distance from the burning pile of metal and chemicals.

Peter manages to save all of them — Mr. Stark destroys all of them — and the pair soar from the road back to the compound. He notices a bay of windows near the roof and shouts to Mr. Stark, "Hey, can you give me a lift?!"

" _I see it. Hop on, kid."_ Mr. Stark flies lower and Peter sticks a web to the Avenger and rides the heat wave coming from Iron Man's thrusters. Dimitri rides across the pavement, the rumble of his motorcycle echoing against the building as they draw nearer, and Peter's heart pounds in his throat.

" _Get ready!"_

Peter gives a thumbs up. "Ready!"

He shuts his eyes —

And the shattering of glass fills the air.

* * *

{ Julia }

"Sir, the first shipment's been destroyed — "

"Then why are you still HERE?! MOVE!" Silvio screams at the soldiers, barking orders in Italian, and the men scatter like roaches. Julia swears a few of his hairs turn grey right before her eyes.

But all she can think —

All she can hear —

Is Peter.

And again —

He's —

He's not thinking.

He's just moving —

Fighting —

Avoiding danger like it's second nature. And he's not angry anymore. His noise is less red. More yellow and hopeful and carefree and —

 _I'm coming for you, Julia._

Julia shudders a breath.

And her heart beats wildly and her stomach flutters —

And that pit in her stomach —

It's closing —

"Julia," Silvio fumes, snapping her thoughts back inside the compound. "Put an end to this — "

"By any means necessary," she finishes.

(oh — )

(oh no — )

(she didn't mean — )

(it just —)

(came out like — )

(like it's second nature — )

" _Brava ragazza,"_ Silvio whispers, taking her head into his hands and places a kiss atop her hair. She watches as he retreats from the balcony, slips inside his office, and disappears from the mayhem.

(no one has to die — )

(but she received an order — )

(and compliance will be rewarded — )

Julia inhales deeply. They won't ruin this for her.

She swings up to the control booth, hurries into the metal room, and demands, "Give me a visual of the breach." The technicians enlarge security footage surrounding the compound perimeter on the displays. Julia sifts through the different angles for the breaches and —

Julia groans at the sight of them.

He's here.

They both are.

(no no no —)

(do not ruin this — )

(do not take this from me — )

(from us — )

A surge of energy flows through Julia and she clenches her hands into fists, steadying the impulse. But it's too strong —

And a wave of webs blast throughout the room.

 _Holy —_

 _What the f —_

 _Did that just come from her?_

 _Ew, I hate spider webs —_

Julia turns away from the mess she created and storms out of the booth. The booming explosions of Iron Man outside echo across the warehouse mixed with gunfire and _him —_

Peter's adrenaline soars —

And the windows shatter —

Julia pushes a soldier down, shielding them from the shards of glass scattering their way. She looks to the fight below spilling inside. Iron Man's repulsors light up the warehouse, blasting everything in sight and gunfire explodes from the production lines and the traitor has some sort of stun weaponry as soldiers drop like flies —

Julia catches a glimpse of a red and blue blur swinging around the compound. She clenches her jaw and swings down to Iron Man lowering his repulsors from blasting the structural columns.

(he's gonna bring the whole place down — )

The creaking of steel fill the air as it breaks apart from the connecting beams. Julia manipulates a web onto it, sends it crashing in his direction, but he zips out of the way and the beam collides into the concrete wall.

Iron Man looks at her (almost offended) and she just stares back at the man hiding behind a red and gold mask. He raises a repulsor to her, and Julia tilts her head to the side, evaluating the probability of him attacking as his thoughts betray his actions.

 _Kid, what happened to you?_

 _You don't wanna do this —_

 _I was right —_

 _Parker's gonna be heartbroken —_

Julia webs his arms back without lifting a hand.

"What the?"

She creates another web and knocks his legs out from under him. He falls to the floor but powers forward, flying out of the webs, and soars toward the ceiling.

Julia slaps a web onto him and rises up with him. He blasts the production lines, fires combusting amongst the chemicals and heat, and Julia webs his repulsors.

" _Uh, Friday? What's goin' on?"_

She jumps down, webbing the fires and starving them of oxygen as Iron Man works to get his weapons back online. Julia gathers the abundance of chemicals in the air and weaves them into the webs covering his repulsors.

The shrieking of metal cries out and Julia abandons him, springing upward and webbing the structure, keeping it from collapsing in on itself, in on them all. She sees Simon get the drop on the traitor and tackle him to the ground —

But Spider-Man fights to break him free —

And the fire sprinklers kick on, spraying the production floor as smoke billows from the newly extinguished fires, drenching everything wet and cold —

And the structure starts slipping —

The water starts dissolving her webs —

And Peter swings to a soldier trapped by the falling structure —

(where is Simon?)

Julia uses the water, building it into the webs and stabilizing the structure, then moves.

Moves right to him.

She blindsides Spider-Man, kicking him away and grabbing the soldier —

"No!"

Julia drops down and stands between him and the soldier limping away free. The fighting's stopped. Everyone's either captured or (probably) dead. Simon's gone, Iron Man's gone God knows where leaving the sprinklers to rain on an empty warehouse —

Empty except for them.

Spider-Man faces her. She hears his heartbeat and his blood pumping faster and his thoughts are just saying —

 _Julia Julia Julia —_

She fires a web, pulling him toward her, and kicks him away. He falls backward but she hears him planning his next move in his head. He quickly gets his feet under him, shoots a web, and she dodges it with ease. He throws a punch but she steps back, punching his side and shoving him backward with a web.

He's not getting through her to the ones who got away.

He's not getting to Silvio —

He's not getting the Juvenator —

He's not leaving this place.

Spider-Man tears the webbing off, and Julia webs a piece of broken machinery, spinning it around, and launches it at him. He jumps out of the way, barely dodging the hit, and Julia pulls herself to him, driving her knee into his chin, and flips backward, swiping his legs out from under him. He lands on his back, the breath knocked from his lungs, and she pins down his wrist with her foot, aiming a hand at his throat.

He lays there staring up at her, his chest heaving up and down.

"You shouldn't have come here," she warns. "If I don't kill you, they will. You can't stop — "

"It's you."

* * *

{ Peter }

The words leave his lips before he can stop them.

He wasn't sure at first, but that stubborn determination could only be her.

He was right —

About all of it.

She's working for Silvermane —

It was her at the Thompson's —

It was her on the roof —

And she's okay.

She's okay —

She's okay —

The power shuts off.

The warehouse plunges into darkness, overhead cables raining sparks, and Peter flinches under the jarring crackle of electricity. Creaking steel echoes through the room, and Peter tilts his head back to see a beam shifting under its supportive position.

Shifting right over him.

And it slips —

Fear jolts his insides —

And Julia grabs him —

She pulls him back, tucking and diving out of the way —

And the beam crashes into the ground.

Peter grunts as he rolls onto his side —

(Julia Julia Julia — )

He searches for her in the darkness, coughing his way through the cloud of dust and smoke and —

He senses her.

"Julia," he chokes out.

She hurries into a corridor without so much as a glance behind her.

"Julia!"

Peter scrambles to his feet after her. He runs into the hall, danger screaming at him on his left, and ducks, throwing a punch and hitting the soldier's stomach. Another appears at his back and he webs the rifle upward, shots ringing out and firing into the ceiling. Peter jumps, face-kicking him, and lands from the backflip.

A pair of arms wrap around him from behind, slam him into the wall, and bars the rifle against his throat. Peter cries out, the breath in his lungs evaporating, but catches a glimpse of her moving through the sea of wreckage and flashing red lights —

Moving farther down the hall —

Farther away from him —

(Julia — )

Peter gets a hand under the gun, pushes it away from his throat and up into the soldier's jaw. He fires a web, sticks it to the back of the soldier, and retracts into the ceiling. Peter leaves him hanging there and runs down the hall.

"Julia!"

Her black figure slips into a room, and Peter jumps over a pile of debris and follows her inside.

"Jul — "

Peter's knocked to the side, pain erupting in his ribs, and tumbles across an exam table. He glances at Julia, bringing her leg down from a kick, and stands with a groan.

She's just like him. She knows every move he's going to make before he makes it, he can't fight that —

He can't sense her —

Not anymore —

"Julia," he grunts, gritting his teeth at the ache in his lungs.

(images of her saving his collapsed lung flash in his mind — )

(no — )

(not now —)

Julia lunges at him —

She runs up length of body, kicks his face, and backflips off. Pain rips through Peter's nose as he stumbles back, knocking a medical cart over with a metallic crash. He surveys the spinning room, trying to get some stability under him. It's some kind of doctor's office or patient recovery room with bare walls and —

She throws a punch —

And Peter ducks, firing a web to her abdomen and pushing her back —

(guilt fills his insides — )

(he didn't mean to — )

(he doesn't want to hurt her — )

But finally she stops and looks down at the webs confining her arms then at Peter as if she were offended. He swallows thickly, suddenly thankful for the cowl that covers her eyes he knows are filled with a darkness as black as her mask.

And then the webbing falls around her —

But she doesn't lift a finger.

Confusion thuds through Peter as he breathes, "Julia…?"

She charges toward him —

And he jolts backward —

"Julia, wait! Stop!"

She launches herself to the ground —

And Peter dives out of the way just in time, the concrete cracking beneath the force of her landing.

She clamors to her feet, seething, "You did this."

Julia grabs him —

"You brought him here!"

She throws him against the wall —

And Peter shoots a web, bouncing into the stop, and flips onto his feet.

"Julia, we're here for you! I'm here for you!"

"Simon is here for me! Silvio is here for me! Where the hell have you been?!" She demands, marching up to him, and throws him across the room.

Peter slides across the floor and rams into the wall. Pain bursts in his shoulder. He grits his teeth, bringing a hand to it and holds it steady as he casts his gaze up at her. Alarms blare throughout the compound and in the red light, she looks haunted. But it has nothing to do with her dripping wet hair or gaunt cheeks or her black suit and mask.

"Simon Marshall?" He says, grunting as he pushes himself to his feet. "Tried to kill you. Silvermane kidnapped you — Look what they've done to you."

"Only thing they've done is make me stronger."

Peter shakes his head. "You've always been strong, Jules."

She shoots a web —

And he grunts as it hits his stomach like a fist.

"Don't call me that," she growls.

He looks up at her. "What are you gonna do?" He huffs. "Kill me?"

"Do I have to?"

And Peter bites his lip to keep tears spilling from his eyes, his heart breaking with each passing second he stands before her. "This isn't you," he says. "You're not a killer."

"I decide what I am. I decide what I do."

"And is this your choice? To kill hundreds of thousands of people? Or did he tell you that? Did he tell you what you need? That you need to do this."

"It's my choice."

"Then choose to stop this."

"I can't — "

"Julia, releasing these drugs means killing God knows how many people every time the Juvenator's trigger is pulled!"

"And people all across Queens, New York, even the country, will be honored for their sacrifice — "

"Their unknowing sacrifice!"

" — through those that live!"

"There are people already living!" Peter bellows, panic flooding his system. "Julia! Why are you doing this?!"

"I am doing this for you!" She yells.

And everything in Peter comes to a halt.

"I can make your family whole again! We can bring back your parents, Ben, my mom — Everyone we've ever lost!"

Peter fights the urge to take her face in his hands and remove the mask she wears but instead he pulls off the mask of his own.

"The only thing I ever lost was you."

And his voice is stronger than he expected.

Julia reaches a hand to her face, takes off her mask —

And Peter's heart splits in two.

"Why is my family any less precious than someone else's?" She asks.

He shrugs. "Why are our families more precious than someone else's?"

She shakes her head, tears threatening to spill onto her cheeks, and turns away from him.

"I made my peace with Ben," he says, stepping toward her. "You said so yourself, you were okay letting go of your mom — Julia, c'mon. You know it's the right thing to do. We can end this here and now. All of it. We can do this together."

"Why are you here?" She asks, turning to him with confusion etched into her sad features.

And Peter would do anything to take away her sadness.

"Because it was you, wasn't it? That day at Flash's house?" He says. "You saved me, protected me. That doesn't seem like someone who would kill innocent people."

"How do you know I wasn't there to kill you?"

"Because you could have on that rooftop. Your team had me where they wanted me. So why am I still breathing?"

"Calling in reinforcements was a mistake." Julia takes a step moving past him and he blocks her path.

"No," he says. "It wasn't."

She looks at him, but never meets his eyes. "You don't know what you're talking about," she mutters.

"You got hurt, on purpose, because you knew they would come for you — "

"No! No, I — I was reckless!"

"You knew the meet up was across the street from me — "

She shakes her head —

And the lights overhead begin flickering on —

"Julia, you wanted to be found!"

"You left me!" She screams.

And the lights surge with power —

And guilt and sadness and hurt seep into his stomach —

"Julia, I would never — "

"You did!" She cries, tears spilling onto her cheeks. "You left! Just like everyone else!"

"I tried," he pleads.

She shakes her head, pacing the floor, unable to meet his gaze —

"I tried to find you, to get you back, I did, I swear — "

"Liar!"

"You don't believe me, then feel." Peter takes her hand and presses her palm to his chest. "Feel this."

The lights go berserk and flood the room with more light than scientifically possible and it's so bright and hope is swelling within him and his heart pounds right under her fingertips and he's finally touching her, finally holding onto her, and he has so many questions as to what's happening and how she's doing this because it's not him but he doesn't care —

He holds his hand over hers, keeping her fixed to him as she feels his heart, his memories and thoughts and sleepless nights filled with pictures of her since the day they parted.

"I would never leave you," he whispers. "Never."

A new wave of tears fill her eyes as she looks at their hands, and he knows she feels it too.

"Peter…"

He slides a hand onto her cheek and presses his forehead to hers. She's real. She's real and here and alive and she's coming back, she's coming back to him and they are going home.

" _Awh, you guys are breaking my heart,"_ Mr. Stark says appearing in the room. _"Now can we leave?!"_

Peter watches Julia pull away from him and look between the two. "Stephen," she breathes. "Not without Stephen."

"Strange is here?" Peter asks, brow raised.

She nods. "C'mon." Julia hurries out of the room, slipping on her mask, and leads them down a series of corridors to a metal door. Mr. Stark lazers around it and Peter can't stop glancing at Julia like it's just the most incredible thing that she's alive.

"You find Silvio?" She asks the Avenger.

" _Doctor Grey Hair is gone. So's the Juvenator."_

Julia swears under her breath. Mr. Stark taps the door and it falls to the floor with a thud.

Julia rushes into the room, swinging to Doctor Strange's side —

(when did she shoot a web?)

(where did it come from?)

And helps him to his feet. Peter is right there with her, taking his other arm around his good shoulder.

"What the hell happened to you?" Doctor Strange asks looking over Mr. Stark's tarnished and battered suit.

" _I could say the same."_

"Yeah, can we table this for later?" Peter asks, reminding them that they stand in a battlefield.

" _Kid's right. I rigged the place to blow. We gotta move."_

"You did what?" Strange says.

Julia nods her head down the hall. "Incoming."

Peter looks but no one is there —

Until soldiers round the corner —

(how did she know?)

Mr. Stark raises a repulsor and blasts the soldiers backward. _"Strange, get them out of here. Head for Upstate, I'll meet you there."_

Peter slips away from supporting Doctor Strange, saying, "Just her."

" _What?"_

"Peter," Julia says.

He looks at Mr. Stark. "We still gotta get all the people we saved out of here. I'm not letting you do this by yourself."

" _We don't have time for this — Fine."_ Mr. Stark powers up his thrusters and bursts through the ceiling.

Peter shields himself from the falling debris then looks back at Julia and nods as if telling her it'll be okay. She'll be okay and he'll be okay because they know if he leaves, he'll come back to her. He'll always find her.

She nods.

Strange creates a portal and Julia helps him enter the ring of orange spinning sparks which dissipate once they pass through.

Peter inhales deeply.

The air is different. A peace resides within it like New York knew what was about to happen and breathes a sigh of relief.

Julia is coming home.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Chapter Seven**_

A/N: Hi, friends! I promise I have not forgotten about you and our pals, Peter and Julia. Life's gotten a little hectic, but I wanted to give you an update where our spiderlings are at. Thank you for your patience! Enjoy!

* * *

{ Julia }

Julia stumbles through the portal into the Avengers compound. The orange sparks fade behind her and Stephen as does the chaos with it.

It's so quiet.

Julia doesn't know the past time she wasn't hearing a million thoughts pour inside her head. Instead she hears just one.

 _Stay awake —_

 _Stay awake —_

 _Eyes open —_

 _Head up —_

Stephen pales with each passing second, his eyes fluttering shut.

"Oh, no you don't." Julia lifts him onto her shoulder and hauls him upstairs to the med bay.

"Hang in there, Stephen," she says, laying him on one of the gurneys. "We didn't make it all this way for you to crap out on me now."

 _Julia —_

She webs the monitor closer, grabs the telemetry wires, and adheres them to his chest. She flips on the machine, adjusting a few settings and his heart beats, faint and weak on the screen, but it beats nonetheless.

 _Julia —_

She rummages through cupboards and shelves for saline, assembles an IV, and inserts the needle in his arm. "I'm gonna prep for fifty CC's of parenteral injections," she tells him, turning away and searching for the chemical.

 _Seventy-five —_

"Seventy-five," she corrects, "might as well make it a hundred and kill you from overdose."

"It wouldn't kill me — "

Julia screams. She turns to face his floating ghostly form, clutching her heart that beats a hundred miles an hour. She didn't expect his voice to come from outside his mind.

"Why are you astral projecting?!" She shouts.

Stephen looks at her curiously.

 _How is she doing that?_

 _It's like she —_

"How are you — "

"It's a long, thrilling story and one we don't have time for." Julia walks through him, finds the chemicals, and preps his arm for injection.

Stephen hovers above the floor, his wispy figure floating above his corporeal lying at her hands. "You're telepathic," he realizes.

"And you're dying."

"I'm not the only one suffering from malnutrition."

"I am not the one who caused this!" She bellows, staring him down, her chest heaving. This isn't about her. She may have lost weight, she may have been overexerting herself, but this doctor, this patient, this friend is dying. She doesn't have to help him, he let her down. He was supposed to protect her and he failed. He gave up everyone in the world to save her and it wasn't worth it.

 _I didn't say —_

 _I didn't mean —_

 _I tried —_

 _I'd change it if I could —_

Julia shakes her head, her chin wobbling, and angrily wipes her eyes. She draws the liquid from the vial into the syringe and delivers the injection. Stephen's astral form slips back into his body and she takes a breath with him gone. She cleans the station, discarding materials and returning unneeded supplies and watches his vitals slowly improve as minutes pass. She hangs her head, drawing a breath of relief that he's stable, and webs a chair to his bedside.

 _Thank you._

Julia puts a hand on his shoulder as she sits down. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

 _It's okay. I don't blame you._

"And I don't blame you," she tells him. "Sometimes life just sucks."

 _It sucks ass._

Julia looks at him, resting on the bed with his eyes closed but his brain still clearly functional. "I literally never thought I would ever hear you think that."

 _That's why I think it and don't say it outloud._

 _I've thought it before —_

Julia laughs. She doesn't think he meant for her to hear that last thought, but he doesn't really get a choice. She does, sometimes, but the Inhibitor's been giving her such pain, she hates turning it off and on. She's grown used to hearing others. She doesn't know what it woul be like if she stopped, if she went back to before they changed her.

She doesn't know how her and Stephen made it, but they did. She didn't think they would ever get free of that place. And Stephen definitely didn't think he would see the outside of that containment unit.

Julia senses him falling asleep, and hopes the idea doesn't plague his dreams.

She senses another presence approaching amid a jumble of emotions: tiredness, relief, anxiousness, excitement. A monitor at the door beeps, and Julia looks at the detection alert displaying a layout of the compound with the landing platform illuminated red.

Tony's here.

 _Julia —_

 _Stephen —_

 _Where'd you go, kid?_

Which means —

 _Where are they?_

Warmth grows within her chest —

 _Where is she?_

 _Where is she?_

The lights flicker —

 _Julia Julia Julia —_

The lights surge —

Julia takes off running. She charges down the corridor, lights sputtering with electricity as she passes, and follows the stream of thoughts flowing from Tony and Peter making their way to her —

But there are more voices, coming from a different direction —

And she knows them.

She slows to a halt, straining to hear them over the roar coming from Peter, and part of her can't believe what she's hearing.

"Julia!"

She looks to see Peter landing from a web and sprinting toward her and her breath leaves as he enters.

"Kid?" Tony calls out, not far behind. He's ditched his suit for the sweatshirt and jeans we wore underneath. Peter pulls off his mask as he stands before her, and fiddles with the fabric as if to hide his fumbling thoughts like —

Like he was planning to do something else but now those plans are ruined.

Julia hears them again and turns back to the railing overlooking the floors below.

 _Is she here?_

 _What is this place —_

 _I wish I was back in bed —_

 _Are they okay?_

 _I'm gonna get fired if I'm late again —_

 _Where is he?_

 _Where is she?_

"Julia?" Peter softly says. "What is it?"

She looks back at him. Dark circles line his eyes and his hair is matted from his mask and his nose is bleeding and probably broken and he is looking at her with worry.

Julia's eyes wet with tears.

The light above bursts —

"Jesus!" Tony yelps.

And they're plunged into darkness. Peter's shoulders raise as he scrunches his nose, shielding his head a little at the glass raining down.

"What the hell was that?" Tony mutters, looking around for the source.

Julia jumps over the railing —

"Her," Peter says.

She swings down to the lobby and follows the thoughts entering the compound. She hears Peter close behind.

 _Great, so, now I have superhero teenagers tearing up the joint —_

Julia tunes out Tony's grumblings as he takes the stairs four flights down, and jogs over to the foyer with Peter. Happy emerges alongside Pepper ushering in May, Christine, and her father. They're dressed in a mix of pajamas and scrubs and anything they could throw on as they were dragged out of bed and picked up from work. Confusion and worry radiate from them, so much so that Julia doesn't understand how they're not the ones lying in hospital beds with how much worry sickens their stomachs.

"You said you'd found her?" Her father asks, trailing close behind Happy. "Where is she?"

"Is Stephen all right?" Christine adds.

"What about Peter?"

Pepper steps to the side and gestures across the way, gently saying, "Ask them yourself."

The adults freeze in their tracks, staring at them in disbelief. Julia feels a lump rising in her throat as her father steps forward and in the smallest of small voices, whispers, "Jules?"

 _Is it —_

 _Is it her?_

 _Peter —_

 _Julia Julia Julia —_

Julia nods at her father, unable to find her voice drowning in tears.

"Jules," he breathes. He moves toward her, relieved, as she runs into his arms and hugs him tightly. Tears fall from her eyes in big drops onto his shoulder and the warmth she feels inside pales in comparison to the love pouring out from him.

"Dad…" She whimpers, and he just holds her tighter.

"I thought I lost you," he whispers. "I thought I'd lost you both…"

Julia sobs into his neck. She caused this. All this worry. All this pain. And it just brought them closer together.

 _Elizabeth —_

 _I miss you so much —_

 _But she's okay —_

 _Our baby's okay —_

Julia cries harder.

"Oh, Jules!" Christine bawls.

Julia snivels, wiping her eyes and nose as she lets go of her dad and her aunt drops to her knees in front of her.

"We were so worried!" She exclaims with a hug. "We didn't know what happened, how to find you, who did this to you — I mean, are you okay?" She asks, tenderly rubbing her arm.

Julia looks down, realizing she's wearing her black Arachne suit and her hair is a mess and she knows she looks like she's lost weight and how frightening this must be for them but this is a good moment. This is a happy moment, one that shouldn't be overruled with fear.

She gives her a smile. "I'm okay. Stephen's okay, he's upstairs."

"Upstairs?" Christine repeats, searching for answers from one of the people who brought her in.

"Med bay," Pepper says.

Christine brings a hand to her mouth. "Oh, my God…"

 _What happened —_

 _Is he okay —_

 _How bad is it —_

She stands upright, already searching for Happy to guide her to the stairs. He starts to lead her in that direction when Tony enters, anouncing, "Everyone take a chill pill, he's fine. Julia got him all set up, our nurses are in with him now."

 _Julia —_

 _You helped him —_

 _That's my girl —_

 _Thank God she learned from her father —_

 _She's just like her dad —_

 _She's just like Elizabeth —_

Julia reaches for the Inhibitor on her neck but stops short of turning it on.

 _Christine —_

 _Please —_

She looks at her aunt. "He wants you to be there when he wakes up."

Christine shares a puzzled look with her dad.

 _How does she know that —_

 _He must have told her before she came down —_

Julia lowers her hand from her neck, suddenly grateful the collar of her suit covers most of the metal imbedded in her skin.

"Right this way," Happy says, and Christine leaves with her guide but quickly backtracks to Julia.

"I'm so glad you're okay." She places a kiss in her hair and gives her another squeeze before disappearing from the foyer.

"Stay as long as you'd like," Tony throws over his shoulder. He meanders through Pepper, kissing her hand, and ruffles Peter's hair as he walks by, saying, "You'll be safe here." He stops in front of Julia and her father and pulls off his colored glasses. "I'm… sure you have a lot of questions."

Her dad wraps an arm around her shoulders. "Right now, I just want to spend some with my daughter." He grins at her and for the first time in what feels like years, Julia genuinely smiles.

Tony nods and steps back to be with Pepper.

"C'mon," Julia's dad says, "you must be starving. Let's get you some food."

"Cafeteria's downstairs!" The blonde shouts over her shoulder as she walks down the hall arm in arm with Tony.

Julia's dad steers her toward another corridor and Peter —

 _Wait —_

 _Don't take her away —_

 _I just got her back —_

She looks back at him and he's looking at her with these wide eyes and his thoughts are going berserk with sadness and disappointment and —

May clears her throat. "Walter, will you go with me to the cafeteria?"

Julia and her father pause as May walks over to them, chuckling, "I just get so turned around in this place."

Julia notices Peter standing alone with his eyes downcast as he clutches his mask.

 _Please please please go with her —_

"I don't see why…?" Julia's dad's voice trails off as he turns, confused, to look at her. "Jules, you don't want to — "

"Dad." She stares at him then widens her eyes, glancing at Peter several times.

 _This is so embarrassing —_

Her dad shakes his head, not understanding. "No, I'm not letting you out of my sight — "

"Walter," May asserts. "Give them five minutes."

Her father looks at May who just points to her and Peter standing fifty feet apart when they want nothing more than to be together.

"Oh!" He exclaims.

Peter lazily drapes his mask over his face.

Julia drops her face in her hands.

"Oh, yeah, sure." Her dad nods, no longer looking any of them in the eyes, and bounces on his toes. "Sure, we'll go get some food. We'll, uh, we'll see you in a minute."

Julia flashes him a tight smile as he leaves with May. She turns away from them to the glass curtain wall where the sun's just started rising with its soft hues of pink lightening the navy sky.

 _Julia —_

 _She's so —_

 _Beautiful —_

Julia smiles and looks to Peter. His eyes, filled with relief, soften as she meets his gaze and amazement is etched into his brow like it's the most amazing thing she's standing here but it's amazing to her that he's standing there and he came for her, she didn't think he would but he did and he's here.

"Peter…"

"Julia."

She runs to him and he runs to her, throwing her arms around his neck as he collides into her, holding her tightly—

So tightly —

And he smells like sweat and smoke and blood, and her stomach plummets to the floor with guilt but he's holding her —

He's holding her —

He's real and he's alive and he is holding her.

Julia dreamt of this moment in the Commission. She never truly believed it would come true but it did and it's her fault. It's her fault he had to find her, rescue her, force her to come to her senses —

Blinded by her pain, so numb to it all, grieving her mother —

Tears fall from Julia's eyes. She shouldn't have fought. She shouldn't have believed the lies they told her, she knew it was too good to be true, but she did it anyway. She didn't want to hurt Peter but she thought it was right, she thought it was good —

She sobs into his neck. "I'm so sorry."

"Hey," Peter says, pulling back to look at her. She wipes her wet cheeks. "Hey, hey, hey!" He takes her gently by the shoulders. "It's okay! Look! I'm okay!"

"Peter, your nose is broken."

"And I'm okay! Mr. Stark's okay, we're all okay. Well, Doctor Strange could be better, then again, we all could be better, but he's gonna be okay! That's the main thing!"

A laugh bursts through Julia's tears.

"You're okay," he says, softer this time, and brushes his knuckles along her wet cheeks. Which is dumb because her eyes just wet even more at his gentleness.

Peter takes her face in his hands and Julia closes her eyes, reveling in his touch.

"How did you find me?" She asks, breathless. "How do you always find me?"

The corner's of Peter's mouth turn up. "I never stop looking. Not in a crowded hallway, not in a boring class, not across a city. I always look for you, Julia."

He steps toward her —

"And I always find you."

And her breath catches in her lungs. Peter pulls her into his arms and she melts into his chest.

"I'll always find you," he mutters into her hair.

As if he knew —

As if finding her was the last thing he'd ever do.

Peter would never give up, on anyone, but knowing he never, and will never, give up on her?

Well, that's a whole new kind of superpower, isn't it?

Julia kisses him.

Without hesitation, without second guessing, without even deciding to do it because she needs to. She needs him to know how much she cares, how much she loves the lengths he would go for her —

(how much she loves him — )

Julia pulls back, realizing she probably should have given him some sort of warning.

Peter blinks a few times and she flashes him a timid smile. It was probably too soon to jump back into how things used to be.

"C'mon," she says, taking a step back. "Our people are waiting for us."

She turns away to the hall her dad and May disappeared through and hears a web launch. Julia feels it stick to her back and yelps as she's tugged backward and spins into Peter's arms. Bumping into his chest, she looks up at him and —

Clearly it wasn't too soon.

It wasn't soon enough.

She watches as Peter's eyes roam her face and a smirk rolls onto his lips. "Let 'em wait," he says. Julia smiles as he reaches down and presses his lips to hers.

And something explodes in her chest. It travels through her like a chain of lit firecrackers, burning away the tension and confusion and fear over the past three chaotic weeks.

And Peter's thoughts are just going crazy, she can't keep up with them all, but at the front of it, he's just saying —

 _Julia Julia Julia —_

She separates her lips from his with a laugh. "I'm glad to be back, too, and not that I don't love this, but I'm starving."

"Oh, thank God." Peter bends over, clutching his stomach. "I thought I was gonna pass out a while ago."

Julia laughs. "C'mon, drama queen." She helps him upright and he drapes an arm around her shoulders as they cross the lobby.

"I thought I was the dancing queen," he remarks.

"You are any queen you want to be."

"Well, we know one thing's for sure." Peter looks over at her. "She's a killer queen."

Julia rolls her eyes. "Oh, my God." She slips out from under his grasp, Peter laughing and desperately trying to get her to come back into his arms. "Unh-unh!" She exclaims, pushing him away. "Get out of here! Get away from me with that cheesy pickup line…" She heads down the stairs as Peter follows behind explaining how, cheesy or not, it picked up her.

And it's Peter.

Holy crap, it's Peter.

And everything's okay.

* * *

{ Peter }

Peter pops the last bite of french toast into his mouth. He shouldn't have done that but it's too good to go to waste. He glances at Julia across from him. She was eating, she ate a lot, maybe even more than him, but now she's just staring at her plate and mindlessly dragging her fork through the leftover syrup.

Peter glances at the clock on the wall. It's six-thirty, but it feels like it should be midnight a hundred years later with how long this night has been. Mr. Stark brought them some clothes; May scrounged up some of Peter's own stuff from the trunk in their car and Julia's in some of Pepper's leggings with her dad's zip-up jacket. It fits nicely on him but on her it just looks like she's drowning in it. But familiarity and comfort are to be expected after traumatic events.

(Uncle Ben — )

(no —)

(stop it — )

Pepper enters from upstairs, professionally dressed and ready for the day, and no one would ever know she's been up as long as the rest of them. She makes her way over to Mr. Stark, leaning against the self-serve station and watching them all behind his glasses. Peter focuses on their conversation, tuning out May and Christine's idle chatter, and listens.

"The story's already breaking," Pepper says. "We need to get this press release out now."

Mr. Stark frowns. "We need to get our story straight." He stares at Julia and makes his way over to them, his watchful eyes never leaving her, and panic rises within Peter for no apparent reason other than he doesn't know why Mr. Stark looks so serious and that now does not seem like a good time to peruse Julia's head.

Mr. Stark slides onto the bench, sitting next to Peter, across from Julia and her father, and Pepper quietly approaches the table. May and Christine's conversation fades as they watch the boss man sit at their table.

Julia doesn't even look up from her plate.

"How you holding up?" Mr. Stark asks her.

She shrugs. "I'm holding."

The Avenger leans forward with a sigh, setting his hands on the table. Julia still doesn't look up.

"I get it," he says. "It's been a long night. For all of us. Word's already got out that Roxxon is up is smoke, same with all the serums. We need to know your involvement with them over the last three weeks. What was the organization called?"

Julia picks at her food. "The Commission."

"And its purpose?"

"Save lives."

"You believed that?"

"I didn't have a choice."

"And your abilities? Was that your choice too?"

Peter looks at him, baffled. "Mr. Stark…"

"Tony," Pepper chides.

Mr. Carpenter sits up straight, his chest puffing out as he inhales a deep breath, and Peter sinks down in his seat as much as he can. He glances at May. She shakes her head a little, signalling for him to not get involved but it's too late for that. They're all a part of this whether they like it or not and hostility not going to help.

The only one unphased by his remark is Julia.

She finally looks at him and leans forward on her arms. "Three weeks ago I woke up in a recovery room and was ordered to find the Juvenator. Manfredi made it seem like it was my choice but it wasn't. I never had one." Julia stares him down, and Mr. Stark stares right back.

"And the attacks," he says, picking at his nails. "Harry Thompson, Roxxon, that was… that was you?"

"If the suit fits."

Peter glances between her and Mr. Stark. He's never seen her so cavalier, nor his mentor so calculating.

"People are gonna find out, FBI's gonna want to arrest you so just answer me one thing." Mr. Stark sniffles, and he says it all so casually as if trying to match her indifference that it has Peter on the edge of his seat. "Do you still want to help The Commission?"

And something snaps in Julia. A clear fire burns behind her eyes that Peter prays he is never on the receiving end of.

"You mean do I want to help the psychopaths who tortured, kidnapped, and manipulated me into doing their dirty work? You're seriously asking if I want to help them?"

"Okay," Pepper interjects, placing a hand on Mr. Stark's shoulder. "I think we got it. Thank you, Julia. Tony?"

He rises from his seat, leaving them at the table as Pepper escorts him away. Christine leans across to Mr. Carpenter, asking what that whole thing was about, and before Peter can talk to Julia, she storms out of the room.


End file.
